A Law of the Medes and Persians
by SnorkackCatcher
Summary: Harry's hopes of a little time for reflection after the Battle of Hogwarts are dashed by unexpected threats to his godson and to Kingsley's position as Minister, and once again, he and his friends find themselves in a courtroom taking on an old enemy ...
1. After the Battle

**Author's Note:** In four parts – more detailed notes at the end. Many thanks to **ladybug** and **under_crisis** for betaing.

Part 1: After the Battle

Harry had sometimes wondered whether it was worth asking his aunt if she had his birth certificate. He suspected it might show his middle name was in fact 'Trouble', not 'James'.

It would certainly have been apt. Once the Battle of Hogwarts was finally over, he had hopes of being left alone to decide what he wanted to do next, but they were rapidly dashed. After the first euphoria of victory had faded and wizarding Britain began to count the costs, absolutely everyone wanted to meet the Chosen One – to offer him relieved thanks, press him for exclusive interviews, ask him to speak words of wisdom he didn't have, or sign him up to endorse their products. The _Daily Prophet_ was going through another phase of printing fulsome eulogies to the Boy Who Lived on their front page (and often several interior pages as well), but Harry would have preferred that it didn't. It made him feel both angry and guilty when he thought of the dozens of other people who had _not_ made it through the war.

At least residence at The Burrow shielded him from the worst of it. Both he and Hermione had been uncertain whether the Weasleys might prefer to grieve for Fred alone – the last thing either wanted was to intrude – but Molly had insisted, in a manner that brooked no argument, that they stay there until everything settled down. Nor would they let them remain at the back out of sight at the funeral – Ron looked pointedly at an empty space next to himself, while George simply grabbed their hands and pulled them forwards to sit with the family. For one uncomfortable moment Harry thought he would be sitting next to Ginny, but to his relief found himself between Ron and Percy. Ginny herself would have been far too distracting despite the circumstances, and it was definitely neither the time nor the place.

Harry's gut twisted every time he thought about Fred, but on the whole he felt relieved to be at The Burrow. There was nowhere else he would have felt so much at home. The current shattered state of Hogwarts was painful to behold, and his house in Grimmauld Place was a far from welcoming prospect, although Kreacher was doing his best to redecorate in a style less reminiscent of what Hermione had dubbed 'Dark Nouveau'. (Harry had yet to think of a tactful way to suggest to the elf that his relatives' heads might be displayed in some less prominent location.) Most of The Burrow's wartime security charms were still in place, and that was sufficient to keep out Rita Skeeter and other people he didn't want to see. And best of all, the house contained the people whose company he most desired.

Ron and Hermione in particular had been there for him almost continually ever since the battle. That was why he was surprised, and rather disconcerted, to hear that they planned to leave shortly after they had all attended the funeral for Lupin and Tonks.

"Where are you going?" he asked, a little testily.

"Australia," answered Hermione. In response to what must have been a look of astonishment on his face, she explained, "To try to find Mum and Dad. I can't bear to leave them there not … not knowing they have a daughter." Her lip trembled, and Harry felt a great rush of sympathy for her.

"Yeah, of course," he said. "They need you more than anyone at the moment. Ron's going with you, then?"

Ron nodded. "For a bit of moral support."

"I didn't want to go on my own," said Hermione with a shudder. "I keep wanting to cry every time I think of them. It must be reaction setting in. All this doesn't come naturally to me the way it does to you, Harry."

He raised his eyebrows, remembering the many times she'd saved his life over the past year. "Rubbish," he told her firmly. "You've been brilliant." She smiled, obviously pleased. "How will you get there, anyway?"

"One of those airyplane things," answered Ron, with a look of deep foreboding. "Hermione thinks it would be safer to act like Muggles."

Harry grinned. Evidently Ron had not inherited his father's love of Muggle technology, but he couldn't find it in his heart to tease him on the subject. Instead, he turned to Hermione; he didn't know how much tickets to Australia and hotel bills for a stay of unknown length might cost, but he was fairly certain they wouldn't come cheap. "Have you got enough to pay for all this?"

Hermione had the worried look she usually wore when unsure of her facts. "I think so. Just about. If we're careful …"

He shook his head. This was something he could do for them. "No. _I'm_ paying." He overrode their predictable protests. "Come on, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't? You took out all your building society money to help me last year, and I _know_ you spent a lot of it on food and stuff while we were away. You need this, and you wouldn't have had to enchant your parents in the first place if you hadn't been coming with me. No arguments, all right?"

"Well …" Hermione and Ron exchanged questioning glances, and then slowly nodded. Both looked most uncomfortable (and Hermione rather doubtful, as if she wasn't sure he'd have the money), but it was a pleasant surprise to see them accept help, given how stubborn they usually were on the point. Harry managed to suppress a smile. Now he thought about it, he reckoned that some time alone together – away from him, indeed away from Britain entirely – might do them a power of good. He hadn't forgotten the kiss that had caused them to drop armfuls of Basilisk fangs in the middle of a battle.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The service for Lupin and Tonks was a sombre affair, even for a funeral. Andromeda Tonks was at the front, looking blankly at the coffins, and clutching baby Teddy to her as if the sky might collapse around them if she let him go. Harry realised with a guilty start that he'd given barely a thought to his godson since Lupin had asked him to be godfather, and he made a point of seeking out Mrs Tonks afterwards to offer what awkward condolences he could for the fact that she had lost husband, daughter and son-in-law within the space of a few short weeks. He tried to say all the usual things, but somehow the words got stuck behind a lump in his throat and refused to emerge. She seemed to understand, though, and nodded stiffly when he told her – and meant it – that he hoped she would rely on him for any help she or Teddy might need.

He hadn't been sure who would deliver the eulogy – he'd vaguely imagined that it would be the tufty-haired man who, yet again, was officiating – but was glad to see that Kingsley Shacklebolt himself was the one who stood up to address the mourners. The new interim Minister talked with evident sincerity and fondness of Lupin and Tonks as caring friends and brave colleagues in the Order of the Phoenix, and of Tonks as a fellow Auror. One or two of his entourage seemed ill-at-ease when he spoke of how proud he was that they had married, and how important that was as a stand against bigotry, but nobody dared to argue.

It surprised him even more when Kingsley sought him out after the service.

"Good to see you again, Harry."

"You too." Harry grinned at him; it was nice to have the chance. "What's it like being Minister?"

"It has its good and bad points. I waste even more time on paperwork than I did as an Auror, but I get the chance to do some good in the world too. Incidentally, I think we've managed to solve your goblin problem for you."

"Oh … thanks." Harry looked at him uncertainly; he hadn't been aware that he _had_ a goblin problem. He'd assumed they would be as pleased as the wizards were to be rid of Voldemort, but now he thought about it, he remembered it was a point of pride for them to remain neutral -- in which case, they could hardly have been expected to take kindly to the Gringotts break-in. "Um, what did they want?"

"The usual. Terrible punishments for the wizards and witch who disrespected goblin rights. Threats of rebellion, refusal to co-operate, calling-in of loans, all that sort of thing. Hermione was asking me about it earlier."

"_What_?" Harry didn't like the sound of that. "How did you 'solve' the problem?"

Kingsley chuckled. "Creative thinking. They were quoting old Gringotts charters at us – well, two can play that game. There are dozens of half-forgotten laws and agreements in the archives of the Ministry that are technically still in force, if anyone cares to dig them out. And since I have a number of thoroughly appalling people left on staff that I haven't been able to get rid of yet – you know the type, never actually Death Eaters, but approved wholeheartedly of their views on wizarding blood – I set the worst of them the tedious task of searching through the records to find something we could use."

"And did they?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. There was an agreement with the Ministry signed back in 1750 which said that the goblins would not accept weapons or other enchanted objects for safekeeping, if by so doing it could 'give a critical advantage to one of the sides in a wizarding war'. They're trying to argue that a Horcrux doesn't count – I'm afraid that's a bit of an open secret since you mentioned it during your face-off with Voldemort – but happily the sword of Gryffindor unquestionably does, even if it wasn't until you broke in that they got their hands on the real one. Once I pointed that out they became much more reasonable."

"Really?" Harry was sceptical; he hadn't forgotten Griphook's attitudes. On the other hand, he couldn't remember everything he'd told Voldemort; he had an uneasy feeling he might have said too much, but then again he'd been rather distracted at the time.

"Really. Most goblins are actually strongly in favour of binding agreements between themselves and us. They'll treat them like a law of the Medes and Persians that cannot be changed, just so long as wizards do the same. The problems have tended to come when we _haven't_."

"So they just let it drop?" He couldn't believe his luck.

"Welllll … not exactly. They eventually agreed to consider it the fortunes of war – 'collateral damage', as the Muggles say – provided they were compensated in full for the necessary repairs. Fortunately, that dragon didn't actually kill anyone. It's going to cost the Ministry a small fortune, but it's worth every Knut to be rid of Voldemort."

Harry felt a great sense of relief, not to mention gratitude, towards his unknown benefactor – whatever their views might be. "That's _brilliant_. Thank whoever it was for me, will you?"

"Oh, I'm not sure that thanks are in order. It was a convenient way to get her out from under my feet while giving the impression of approval of her views. I thought I might as well get _something_ good out of the Ministry's prejudice against non-humans for a change, while I took stock of what I had left to work with. The place has always had its problems, but this last year it's been seriously compromised. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Albus always said you had an ambition to be an Auror. It just so happens that I'm sorely in need of them, now the war has gutted the Department. Will you help me, Harry?"

Harry gaped at him. He was being handed his dream job on a plate without having even asked for it … and yet as soon as he considered the offer, he found he suddenly lacked all enthusiasm for the idea. "What about the training?" he asked to buy time. "I'm not even eighteen yet."

Kingsley shrugged. "You've faced more and worse Dark magic already than most wizards ever do, even Aurors. I'll need to fill you in on the way we work, but frankly standard operating procedures are all but irrelevant at the moment. We're pretty much starting from scratch – of the Aurors we had before the takeover, a fifth are dead, a quarter have fled, and many of the rest decided to put job security ahead of actually fighting Dark wizards. And you're a hero, Harry. _The_ hero. You can be whatever you want, and people will fall over themselves to let you. I don't think they're going to worry about a little training."

"But I don't _want_ to!" Harry hadn't realised just how true that was until he heard the vehemence in his own voice, but when he actually thought about what it would entail, the idea repulsed him. "I'm fed up of fighting. I'm fed up with being treated as special because of what happened with me and Voldemort. I just want a _break_ from all that!"

Kingsley looked at him for a minute, then nodded slowly and reluctantly. "All right, Harry. I can understand that. But will you at least _think_ about it?"

"I suppose so," he muttered, feeling wary. The last time someone had asked him a similar open-ended question, he had found himself teaching the DA a few weeks later.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Burrow had survived the war surprisingly well, despite having been abandoned for a month – the Death Eaters hadn't bothered to wreck the place once they saw it was empty. (Indeed, George told him bitterly that one of their captives from the battle had sneered that vandalising it would have been an improvement.) Being back there would almost have been like old times – if it hadn't been for the gaping hole left by the absence of Fred.

Actually, Harry reflected, it wasn't solely that – not with Ron and Hermione away too. Naturally, Arthur had been delighted to hear that they proposed to travel by plane, begging Ron to find out how they stayed up. Ron himself had looked less than enthusiastic to have the point raised. Hermione had patiently offered to research aerodynamics on her return, and to hold Ron's hand throughout the flight if he was nervous. Harry thought her ulterior motives fairly obvious, and apparently so did Ron, who raised no objection to this as a slur on his courage. Harry was just glad no-one had informed him of Australia's reputation for poisonous spiders.

On the other hand, the absence of his best friends was quite convenient, as he had ulterior motives of his own. In the fortnight or so since the Battle of Hogwarts, he'd barely been able to snatch more than five minutes alone with Ginny without interruption, and both of them had found it difficult to know where to start. He had a sneaking suspicion that she hadn't entirely forgiven him for playing dead during the battle, despite stating volubly that she understood when he'd repeated his explanation of what he'd learnt in the Pensieve for the benefit of the rest of the Weasleys and the surviving members of the Order. Of course, he now had ample time to peruse his copy of _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_, but unfortunately the author had omitted to include any advice on this particular subject.

So one evening, when George was absent at his shop stocktaking, Arthur had retired to his shed, and Molly was in the kitchen baking to take her mind off things, it suddenly dawned on him that Ginny was in the living-room all by herself. He stood for a moment in the doorway, watching her lying curled up like a cat on the sofa, and then she looked up and saw him. He smiled nervously, and to his great relief she smiled back.

"Sit with me?" she said, holding his gaze. Harry didn't need asking twice. He shot across the room as if she had Summoned him and dropped onto the sofa next to her.

"Er – we haven't had much chance to talk, Ginny," he began.

"No, we haven't really, have we?"

There was an awkward silence.

"I didn't want us to split up, you know," he said desperately, kicking himself for not being able to work up to the subject by means of smooth small talk.

"I know."

Silence set in again.

"I really missed you."

"Me too."

The conversation ground to a halt once more.

"I needed you to be safe --"

Something flared in her eyes. "Yeah, I noticed. Go back to Aunt Muriel's, Ginny. Do what your Mum says. Stay at home like a good little girl while everyone you care about are fighting for their lives, just like Lupin said to Tonks! Well, she couldn't bear that, and neither could I, Harry!"

"And it got her killed and left her kid an orphan!" He cringed as soon as he'd said the words; they didn't seem likely to help.

"And she probably saved half-a-dozen kids by keeping Bellatrix Lestrange occupied during the fight!" Ginny looked as though she might have cried in frustration if she'd been a different kind of girl. "_You_ didn't exactly stay safe, did you?" Harry's retort never got beyond opening his mouth as Ginny added in a desperate voice, "I thought you were _dead_, Harry! I thought you'd got yourself killed for some stupid, pointless reason and I just couldn't bear it and … and I wanted to strike back at them _so much_, I didn't _care_ if I got myself killed too!"

Harry listened to this, aghast. He'd been right, but on this occasion would have preferred to be wrong. "I … look, I'm sorry, Ginny, but … I had to, I thought I _had_ to die to stop Voldemort …"

"I know," she said quietly, her flare of anger suddenly spent. "I _know_. It was the only possible thing to do. I see that now I know why you did it. But if you'd _told_ me beforehand, Harry, I … well, I reckon I'd have been able to handle it better. I wouldn't have tried to stop you."

"No?" said Harry sceptically.

"No! Why do you think I like you as much as I do in the first place? It would have torn my heart into a million pieces, but I'd have known it was what you had to do and I'd have gone _with you_, so you didn't have to walk into that Forest to face it all alone!"

"I _didn't_!" Harry winced at her curious expression. He hadn't even told Ron and Hermione about using the Resurrection Stone, and in fact he wasn't sure the experience was one he would ever want to share with anyone at all, with the possible exception of Dumbledore's portrait. He hastily brought the subject back to Ginny herself. "And I didn't want you to do anything like that and get yourself killed too --"

"I _wouldn't_. I'd have stopped, taken your _Cloak_ if you insisted – I'd have had a chance to say _goodbye_, Harry! If you'd let me, that is. I know you like me – and come on, you know damn well how much I like you – but I can't handle being someone _you don't trust_."

He tamped down his own frustration. "You're _not_. That's not how I think of you. I just didn't want …" He turned away, feeling a lump in his throat; but once again found that for some reason it was easier to confess his fears to Ginny than to anyone else. "Look. It was all I could do to walk in there. I didn't need anything that would make it _harder_! I wouldn't have been strong enough to do it with you there, that's a fact, and then what would have happened? I've got too many people I care about killed! I know what it's like to grow up without parents like Lupin's kid, all right? I couldn't have stood it if there'd been anyone with me who …" Harry bit back the words 'wasn't already dead'. He didn't know how to express everything he wanted to say, but when he risked meeting Ginny's eyes again there was slowly dawning compassion there, and he knew that, miraculously, she'd understood.

"Right." They stared for a moment, and then suddenly, their arms were around each other. He could feel her shaking (though there still weren't any tears), but then again, he too was trembling. It wasn't an embrace so much as a source of comfort. "I thought I'd lost you as well as Fred, Harry," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "I thought we'd _lost_. It was the worst I've ever felt. And you _know_ I've had bad times."

"Yeah, I'm sorry …" He held her slightly away from him, to say what he wanted to say without the distraction of feeling her body pressed against his. "Look, I don't suppose we can go straight back to where we were, but we've got time to give it a proper try, now, so … er, can we? Because I really, really want to."

She leaned back a little, but took his hands in hers. "After all this?" she said with a shaky laugh. "Oh, you bet, Harry. Now we've got the chance, it's about time we really tried. What will you do with yourself now, eh?" she added, only half-joking. "A desk job at the Ministry must seem a bit tame after being out there saving the wizarding world."

"Tame sounds good," said Harry fervently. "I always wanted to be an Auror, but now … I dunno, it feels like I've had more than enough of all that to be going on with." Career choices hadn't been high on the list of topics he had wanted to discuss with Ginny, but as a start anything that wasn't an awkward silence or a row was just fine with him.

"Any Quidditch team in the country would sign you up as a Seeker, you know. Well, except the Harpies," she corrected herself with a grin. "That's who I'd like to play for." She looked at him shrewdly. "Would you be _happy_ just playing Quidditch, Harry? Or do you want to keep chasing Dark wizards? You deserve to do what _you _want to."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I've hardly even sat on a broom for more than a year. I don't _want_ to go looking for trouble, Ginny, but that's basically what an Auror does, isn't it? Anyway, trouble seems to be my middle name. It looks for me --"

_Crack!_

Both Harry and Ginny started violently at the sudden noise from the end of the garden, then with one accord they jumped up, drew their wands, and charged out into the yard. Harry felt his jaw drop when he saw the white-faced figure standing by the garden gate. Ginny's face registered utter horror; he realised she'd probably never seen their visitor at such close range except in passing at the funeral, and was as misled by the family resemblance as he'd once been.

"Mrs _Tonks_?" he said uncertainly. "Er … you'd better come in?"

He glanced at Ginny, who nodded mutely, and waved his wand to release the charms around the gate. Andromeda Tonks stumbled into the garden, and as she did, Harry saw she was carrying a small bundle with a canary-yellow blur sticking out one end. Ginny gently took her arm. "Come on, Madam Tonks. Is that Teddy?"

Andromeda needed several deep steadying breaths before she could speak. "They want to take him!"

"Take who?"

"Teddy! They want to take Teddy from me! Please, Mr Potter, I need your help …"

"Who wants to take him?" asked Harry, confused.

"That'd be me, Mr Potter."

Harry spun around to see a man with short grizzled hair coming in through the gate. It only took a moment or two to recognise him as Dawlish, the Auror who had tried to arrest Dumbledore – and Neville's gran, in neither case with any great success. He was regarding them with a mixture of challenge and trepidation, and Harry glared at him in dislike. "On what grounds?" he snapped.

Dawlish produced an official-looking piece of parchment from his pocket. "According to the International Werewolf Agreement of 1741 –" Harry, puzzled, turned to Ginny, who shrugged "– _be it hereby decreed by the will of Wizardkind expressed in the proceedings of the most noble International Confederation of Wizards that_ … er, anyway, the gist of it, werewolves can't marry or have kids unless the Ministry agrees. Since the Ministry certainly never approved a marriage for the parents of _this_ –" he looked at Teddy with distaste "– it's to be taken into custody and placed in a secure facility for half-werewolves. It'll be safer there anyway. There's many people who'd want to see it quietly smothered before it has a chance to grow up."

Harry was suddenly so angry that it almost choked him. "I don't think so." His wand was pointing at the Auror before he realised what he was doing, and he was glad to see that Ginny's wand was right there with it.

"Now come on, Mr Potter, there's no need for this. I can use force if I have to --"

"Yeah, great idea," said Harry sarcastically. "I beat Voldemort in the last duel I had –" he was pleased to see Dawlish wince at the name "– so you're welcome to try your luck if you want to step into his shoes. There's a vacancy going for someone to persecute innocent people." Harry chanced a glance at Andromeda; to his surprise, she didn't look in any fit condition to help. Her eyes had glazed over and she was swaying slightly. "How did you get in here, anyway?"

Dawlish shrugged. "You left the defences down after you let her in. It was reported that she –" he nodded to Andromeda "– helped you out before. She's got nowhere else to go, so I just tried my luck. And I've got a warrant from the Ministry to take the brat."

"Oh yeah? On whose authority?" Harry felt sure that Kingsley Shacklebolt wouldn't have signed anything of the sort. Dawlish held it up and Harry saw red at the girlish looping signature on the bottom. "_Umbridge?_" he spat. "You've got to be kidding."

"Hasn't she been thrown out of the Ministry yet?" asked Ginny, looking disgusted

"Dolores Umbridge has been helping the interim Minister clear the backlog of paperwork and conduct matters of research," said Dawlish smugly. "Now please move aside, Mr Potter, or war hero or not I will have to put you under arrest for resisting an Auror in the course of his duty."

"Just try it," snarled Harry, raising his wand higher.

"Oh, and remember he's got an unbeatable wand," said Ginny brightly. "Don't you read the papers?" Harry winced – that particular article had made him think he'd _definitely_ said too much to Voldemort – but he didn't see the need to correct any misapprehensions Dawlish might have at this juncture, and the man visibly hesitated.

"What's going _on_ here?"

Arthur Weasley's voice cut through the tense tableau as he ran across the yard from the direction of the shed. He listened grimly as everyone except Andromeda Tonks started to talk. Harry glanced at her again; she was shivering and looked as if she might collapse at any moment, but was holding onto her grandson the way she had at the funeral, as if she would never let him go.

"All right, let's calm down." Mr Weasley sounded as if the multiple explanations had failed to make the situation any clearer to him. "Everybody, please put your wands away. We've had enough curses flying around recently. This looks like a bureaucratic mistake to me, let's try to get it sorted out. Dawlish, you can wait with us in the house while I get a ruling from the Minister."

As he spoke, he raised his wand, and a silver weasel erupted from the end and flew away into the evening light. Ginny took that as a sign to take Andromeda Tonks gently by the arm and lead her into The Burrow, with Dawlish at their heels; he stood in the living-room doorway with a hand held loosely next to his wand, and Harry found himself seething. A very stiff silence ensued while they waited, broken only by Andromeda (who had refused even to look at the Auror) comforting a crying Teddy in tones that sounded to Harry as if they had more than a touch of desperation.

Fortunately, it was only about five minutes before there was another noise outside, and Kingsley Shacklebolt walked in. He listened grimly to Dawlish's explanation, then without a word, held out his hand for the parchment Umbridge had signed and read through it.

"Very well," he said eventually. "I want to talk to Madam Tonks. Dawlish, wait outside." He cut his protests off with a raised hand. "That's an order. Go and watch the gnomes or something."

Dawlish left with a resentful look, and while Harry cast a prudent _Muffliato_ Ginny and Arthur immediately started talking. Kingsley cut through them. "Whoa, wait a minute. Now you listen to me – we have a problem here." He held up a hand again to forestall their protests. "I might have known Umbridge would do something like this. I agree this is most unfair and Andromeda here has …" He trailed off as he glanced at her; Harry, following his gaze, could see why. She hadn't said a word to anyone except Teddy since her initial panic at the gate, and was still sitting there pale-faced, clutching him and staring into space.

"Does that mean you're not going to do anything?" he asked, disgusted.

"No, it doesn't!" replied Kingsley sharply. "Teddy Lupin is the son of two people I had the greatest respect for. What it _means_ is that I'm in a cleft stick. I've been making grand speeches about how we need to re-establish a culture of respect for the Ministry and its laws by making them fair and uniform, so we don't punish people for no good reason, or have them wriggle out of trouble because their great-uncle is on the Wizengamot. If we don't start as we mean to go on, that's never going to take. If I'm seen to be interfering in a case for the sake of one of my friends, it'll put us back to square one."

"Laws can be changed," said Harry bluntly, remembering something Fudge had once said.

"Not _this_ one. As far as I can see, it's based on an International Confederation of Wizards rule, and that ties my hands. It's another law of the Medes and Persians – we signed up for it, and now we're stuck with it."

"So what are you going to do?"

"You mean, what are _you_ going to do?" Harry stared at him. "I really don't have the time to deal with this, Harry, and I've never had cause to have any specialised knowledge of werewolf law – the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures usually deal with those cases, not the Auror Office. But if _you_ were to take charge of things and speak out – you're the godfather, after all – well, I imagine that would be a great advantage. Since you haven't joined the Ministry, not yet, anyway –" Harry wasn't sure he liked the sound of that _not yet_ – "your influence isn't _official_ influence, so no-one can complain."

Harry threw his hands up. "Like I told you, I don't _want_ people doing things for me just because I'm the 'Chosen One'!"

"Maybe not, but they're going to offer whether you like it or not," said Kingsley, with a shrug. "You might as well do something useful with it." Arthur and Ginny nodded, and Harry realised he was outnumbered.

"Oh, all right," he said, trying not to sound sulky. He gestured to Dawlish, who was standing as close to the door as he dared and obviously straining to hear a discussion that must seem like unidentifiable mumbling. "What are you going to tell _him_? And how come you've still got Aurors throwing their weight about anyway?" he added, anger flaring again.

Kingsley looked oddly shamefaced. "Like I told _you_, we're having to rebuild the Auror Office from the ground up. The ones who stayed all through the war were mostly time-servers – or worse, the ones who _liked _throwing their weight about, regardless of the laws. And in this particular case –-" again, he seemed embarrassed "– well, you have to take into account the people concerned."

"What does _that_ mean?" asked Ginny, bristling, although Arthur nodded sadly.

"Both Tonks and I were … less than popular with some influential Aurors. They thought we were turnrobes for going against the Ministry when we joined the Order after Voldemort returned. And as for Tonks … well, when on top of that she became openly involved with a _werewolf_, they just wanted her out even before the Ministry fell. They're probably glad she's dead."

"_What?_"

Harry jumped as Andromeda Tonks spoke. Animation had returned to her face – indeed, she looked positively fierce. "Er, Mrs Tonks --"

"_Glad_ she's dead? My _daughter_?" She raised her wand as if to send a curse in the direction of the Auror outside, and Arthur hastily grabbed her wrist. "My Nymphadora … she's … _dead_ …"

She suddenly collapsed onto the sofa and began to cry without restraint, still holding onto the baby, who added his own wails to the barrage of noise. A grim-faced Ginny sat down beside her and patted her on the shoulder, clearly nervous that anything she might say could produce an even worse reaction, Arthur watched his daughter, tight-lipped, and Harry knew he must be thinking of Fred. And then after a few moments Molly Weasley appeared at the door carrying a cake; evidently Harry's _Muffliato_ had left her unaware of what was happening, and she regarded the scene in front of her with open astonishment.

Harry exchanged helpless looks with Kingsley. "So what _are_ you going to tell them?" he asked to ease his discomfort.

Kingsley seized upon the question with relief. "I'm going to rule that Andromeda can keep Teddy Lupin for the time being, until the case comes to a hearing. I can't see _why_ they would declare he had to be taken from her and sent to some home for half-werewolves anyway – we don't even _have_ one in this country."

"Umbridge stirring up trouble again," said Harry bitterly. He gritted his teeth and asked the obvious question. "Was she one of the people you had looking through old records?"

"I'm afraid so," Kingsley said in apology. "But if I remember rightly, that's a standard warrant -- I don't think she found anything important in the records of the Department other than goblin laws."

"Why didn't you sack her? Her of _all_ people!"

"Reasons." Before Harry could react to this cryptic statement, he added, "It might be a good idea if you kept Andromeda and Teddy here, where it's secure – or at least it will be when you put those damn charms back in place! I walked right in when I got here without even a password." He turned to Arthur Weasley with raised eyebrows, and the older man nodded.

"She can stay as long as necessary," he said gruffly. "Least we can do. Er … I'll see to the security while you tell Dawlish."

"I'll help," said Harry quickly, feeling exasperated with Kingsley Shacklebolt and glad of an excuse to escape the tense situation. He followed Arthur across the yard in silence, which was broken shortly afterwards by outraged yells from Dawlish. The Auror stomped out a few minutes later and Disapparated as soon as he was beyond the boundaries of The Burrow, with no more than a curt nod to his hosts.

Kingsley followed them at a more sedate pace. "You'll take on the responsibility for this, Harry?"

He nodded wearily. "I could get Hermione to help when she gets back," he suggested as an idea struck him. "She loves researching things like this."

"Excellent." Kingsley's mouth twitched. "Well, I'd better get back to the office. I seem to spend most of my time as Minister talking to other governments. I saw the Muggle Prime Minister this afternoon, I have an overseas trip to prepare for, and a meeting with the goblins tomorrow morning."

"I thought that had been fixed?" said Harry suspiciously.

Kingsley chuckled. "It has. More or less. But we still have to settle the details. I'm not saying you'll necessarily be their most favoured customer in future, but Bill tells me that once we sign an agreement, they'll regard the matter as closed as long as we keep to it – which I intend to make sure we do. See you, Harry, Arthur."

He too Disapparated, and shortly afterwards Ginny joined them at the gate. "Mum's looking after her," she announced. "She's cooing over Teddy, that seemed to help. Did Hermione leave you a way to get in touch with them, Harry?"

Arthur smiled at his daughter. "Great minds think alike, then."

"Yeah," said Harry, pleased. "She left me the number of their hotel in Sydney. I suppose I'd better go down to the phone box in the village and let her know …"

"Can I help?" asked Arthur, almost eagerly.

"Not _now_, Dad," said Ginny, sounding astonishingly like her mother. "See you later, Harry."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As it happened, Harry was rather glad that Arthur hadn't accompanied him, as it took him three tries to get the hang of international direct dialling. Unfortunately, Hermione and Ron were out; so when the receptionist asked if he wished to leave a message, he was forced to try to explain the situation as best he could without making any kind of reference to werewolves, or indeed magic in general. He eventually settled for saying that Teddy was threatened with being taken into care in a secure centre, in case he showed the same incurably criminal tendencies as his father (this might be the first time Uncle Vernon had ever proved useful). Seven years in the wizarding world seemed to have left him rusty about the Muggle one, but the receptionist didn't seem to think his story implausible – although the irritatingly snooty tone in which he read back the message for confirmation suggested that Harry had just trashed the reputation of his best friends by association.

By the time he made it back to The Burrow, the Weasleys had managed to calm Mrs Tonks down, and she had even consented to let Molly tuck up Teddy Lupin in an old crib. There was still a dull, faraway look in her eye, however, mixed with an undercurrent of terror; it seemed to be a more fully realised version of the way she'd reacted during their brief meeting in her house, and Harry's heart sank. He managed to draw Arthur Weasley aside. "Is she going to be all right?" he whispered.

Arthur glanced back uneasily. "I hope so. She looks to me like a woman who's on the edge from one shock too many in a short space of time. Molly's offering her tea and sympathy, that's about all we can do. I don't blame her in the slightest for feeling like that. I know what it's like to lose a child," he finished flatly.

Harry found he couldn't meet Mr Weasley's eye. "Look, you know I'm sorry, I never …"

"I _know_, Harry." said Arthur gently. "No-one blames you."

"Maybe they should," mumbled Harry. He had been unable to offer more than a few choked words at Fred's funeral, and had avoided the subject ever since. Fortunately George had seldom been at The Burrow, having thrown himself into the task of setting the Diagon Alley shop to rights with a kind of desperate zeal – although his attempted joke about only really needing to move the apostrophe had a hollow ring to it.

Arthur shook his head. "No, they _shouldn't_. Harry. Because of what you did, and my children did, and Hermione did, this family has a future again." His voice was firm. "I hate what happened, but … well, Fred knew what he was getting into and accepted the risks – cheerfully –" he swallowed "– and I'm sure that _he_ wouldn't have blamed anyone other than You-Kn-- than _Voldemort_ for what you had to do. You're all heroes, Harry."

"It doesn't feel that way," said Harry uncomfortably.

"It doesn't matter whether it does or not. You've all got a chance to have normal lives now." Arthur glanced at his daughter, opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and awkwardly clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Is there anyone at the Ministry you can get to help?" asked Harry, wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible. He knew Mr Weasley had resumed some sort of role there under Kingsley's leadership, but wasn't entirely sure what it involved.

"Perhaps. I'm covering three people's jobs at the moment – it's a case of just doing whatever needs to be done – but there are still people I know left in the Magical Creatures department. I can probably use a bit of pull to get someone sensible assigned to hear the case. But it's all rather complicated there at the moment," finished Arthur, leaving Harry puzzled. "Oh _damn_, I haven't told Molly they'll be staying here. I'm sure she won't mind, though. Er, Molly," he called, raising his voice. "I said Andromeda and Teddy could stay until the hearing, they can have Bill's old room --"

"_Molly_?" Andromeda Tonks suddenly sat up. "You're Molly Weasley?" It was the first coherent thing she'd said for some time.

"Yes …"

"You were the one who killed my sister."

Harry put his head in his hands. This was a complication he should probably have foreseen. Molly turned white. "I … I had no choice," she stammered. "She … she tried to kill my Ginny … I'm sorry …"

"I'm not," interrupted Andromeda. She had an ugly look on her face. "Thank you, Molly Weasley. That twisted _bitch_ –" she spat the word with venom enough to destroy a Horcrux "– hated me from the moment I married Ted, and killed my daughter because of who _she_ married! I hope she rots in hell. I only wish I could have done it myself!" She looked up from a hugely relieved Molly and caught sight of Harry; her face was deathly pale, but her fury at Bellatrix seemed to have focused her on her surroundings again. "Harry Potter. Nymphadora wanted you to be godfather to Teddy."

"Er … yes," replied Harry, nonplussed by her sudden changes in attitude. "And Lupin too."

Andromeda Tonks stiffened very slightly, then nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry for troubling you like this, Mr Potter," she said, with what seemed a shaky but creditable attempt at the hauteur she'd shown on the first occasion she'd spoken to him, a year before in what seemed like another life. "But I knew they moved you here after we met so briefly, and I thought you would probably be staying here again, and, well … when that _man_ came I couldn't think of anyone else who might be willing and able to help us." She shuddered.

"It's no trouble," muttered Harry. "Least I can do. We'll get this sorted out at the Ministry."

"You'll stay here, of course, er – Andromeda?" asked Molly tentatively, looking heartened when she nodded. "Oh good. I'll show you to your room, then. Follow me," she said with a sudden return to her usual brisk manner. "Arthur, bring that dear little boy, would you?"

Mr Weasley exchanged rueful grins with Harry and Ginny as his wife shepherded Andromeda Tonks upstairs. He gently lifted Teddy's crib and followed them, leaving a sudden silence behind him. Ginny watched him go. "Wow," she said as he disappeared around the corner of the stairs. That seemed to cover the situation. "What _are_ you going to do?" she added after a moment.

"Talk to whoever runs this stupid tribunal, I suppose," said Harry, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I don't believe they're still letting Umbridge run around loose!"

"Me neither. I can't imagine what Kingsley's thinking. They should lock her up in Azkaban and Vanish the key. We'll have to go and look up the werewolf laws, won't we?"

"You'll help?" asked Harry. The prospect of having a good excuse to monopolise Ginny's company for the next few days was appealing, even if the circumstances that provided the opportunity weren't. For some reason it was hard to feel guilty about this.

"Of course I will," said Ginny staunchly. "We could do with a bit of expert assistance though. Did you get Hermione on that fellytone thing?"

"Telephone," corrected Harry absently. "No, they were out … _agh!_"

Both Harry and Ginny jumped as a silver streak flew across the yard and into the kitchen. It coalesced into an otter that looked up at them in a mildly smug manner, twitched its whiskers, and spoke in Hermione's voice.

"_Got your message. Ron hit roof. Mum and Dad fine. All coming home soonest._"

"Say what you like about Hermione," said Ginny as it faded, "but she's got great timing."


	2. Preparations

Part 2: Preparations

_Author's Note: Apologies for the delay between the first chapter and this one – I've been moving flats, and it took a while to get everything set up!_

Harry was fairly sure that Minerva McGonagall would be willing to do anything she could to help them, and he was right. He and Ginny found her supervising the repairs to Hogwarts; she listened, tight-lipped, as he described the events at The Burrow, and looked as if she would have liked to spit when Umbridge's role was mentioned.

"So we need to look up the legal stuff," he finished. "Can we use the library here? I don't want to spend more time that I have to in the Ministry at the moment," he added.

"No, I don't suppose you do, Potter," she replied, with a look that was more pointed than Harry felt was strictly necessary. "Too many people wanting a word with you, no doubt?" He nodded, and McGonagall's face softened. "Very well. Of course the two of you – and Miss Granger and Mr Weasley when they return – can use the Hogwarts library, you hardly needed to ask. But Harry –" he noticed her use of his first name and was mildly surprised "– I think you should consider your unique position. At the moment, you could ask for almost anything from almost anyone in the wizarding world, and get it. You could do a lot of good --"

"Yeah, I've had Kingsley Shacklebolt and everyone _else_ telling me that already," muttered Harry. He'd heard it far too often in the past few days, and could have done without McGonagall adding her two Knuts. "I don't _want_ everyone to keep thinking of me as special. I've had people gawking at my scar since I was too young to even know. Isn't that enough for them by now?"

"Maybe it should be." Her tone was sympathetic, but her reply was as crisp as ever. "But Kingsley is right. I'm afraid they're going to think you're special whether you want them to or not, because you _are_. Do think about what you want, Harry. We'll all support you, of course, whatever you decide. You'd even be welcome to come back and finish your education if you wished."

_That_ was a new suggestion, and Harry hesitated before replying. "Thanks, Professor, but … I'm not really sure that'd work." He gazed around him at the familiar surroundings – except now they were jarringly unfamiliar. Many of the walls were lying in ruins where curses and giants had done their worst, the grounds had been torn and trampled, and he swallowed as a lump rose in his throat. He'd really missed the place – the castle had been the first true home he could remember, despite the less pleasant experiences he'd had there involving giant spiders, Ministry interference, and of course repeated attempts to kill him on Voldemort's part. "I'll think about it, though."

McGonagall smiled. "Well, I'd say you've earned an Outstanding in Defence Against the Dark Arts, anyway. And whatever he decides, I expect to see _you_ back to finish your N.E.W.T.s, Miss Weasley," she added with a significant look at Ginny. "I plan to reopen this school in September even if we have to teach all the classes in the open air!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry poked his head around the door of the Hogwarts library with a sense of foreboding, but was heartened to see that it had escaped from the fighting with very little damage. Better yet, there was what appeared to be a complete archive of Ministry documents tucked away in one corner, going back to what Harry vaguely remembered was the date of its foundation. When they had finally located the volumes they wanted and taken a seat at one of the old tables, he found himself in astonishingly high spirits – even though the dull legal tomes in front of him would, in years past, have filled him with a sense of gloom when he contemplated the task of searching through them for the titbits of information he needed.

For a few moments, he felt a wild desire to take McGonagall up on her offer, catch the Hogwarts Express as usual the coming September, and start classes as before. He couldn't pretend, even to himself, that he cared overmuch about actually studying for N.E.W.T.s -- especially if Kingsley Shacklebolt was right in his opinion that he wouldn't need them -- but the idea of attempting to relive the many happy times he had enjoyed here was enormously appealing. But then he glanced out of a broken window and caught sight of the shattered tower opposite, and memories of the last year suddenly came flooding back. He turned away; it was as if the missing glass had allowed a chill wind to blow through the library.

"Are you OK, Harry?"

He started; for a moment, he'd actually forgotten Ginny was there. Her voice was low and gentle, and the way she was looking at him reminded him painfully of a quiet conversation about Sirius when things had been very different.

"I'm not … I don't belong here any more, Ginny," he said, fighting to avoid the embarrassment of his voice breaking up. He dropped his gaze to the table. "Things have gone too far. I know McGonagall meant well, but I don't think I _could_ come back. I'd only be pretending, wouldn't I? No-one's going to let me just be an ordinary student again even if I tried, and I probably wouldn't feel comfortable trying anyway …"

"You've grown up, Harry." He looked up to see her staring at him. "I can see it, you know."

"I don't want you to think I've changed," he said uncomfortably.

Ginny smiled. "I don't think you've _changed_ exactly. You've –" she visibly struggled for words "– I don't know, you actually seem more _you_ than you've ever been. And no, I _don't_ think it's just because you've lost that bit of Voldemort," she added, cutting him off before he could speak. "I mean ever since the end of last year. You seem to have become the man we always knew you were really … that was what I saw in you in the first place," she finished.

She was blushing slightly, in a way that had once been familiar whenever she was in his presence; but now, her brown eyes met his steadily instead of shying away, with a blazing look in them that he'd come to appreciate. He found himself acting on a sudden overriding impulse – one his brain didn't consciously identify as the desire to lean forward and kiss her until he was already doing it. As soon as it did, he drew back, alarmed that he might have taken her approval for granted; but Ginny was apparently acting on her own overriding impulse, and impatiently put her hand on the back of his head and pulled his lips back towards her own.

He couldn't have said how long this pleasant state of affairs had lasted (except that it definitely wasn't long enough) when they were interrupted by a loud and rather shocked cough. Harry glanced up, and to his horror saw Madam Pince staring at them with an expression of complete disbelief.

"I … er … we …" he began, trying to find some way of explaining why it was entirely reasonable for them to be snogging in the Hogwarts library, and realising immediately that the attempt was futile. Next to him, a scarlet-faced Ginny was making equally incoherent attempts of her own; but then, incredibly, Pince's expression changed. He wouldn't have described it as a _smile_, exactly, not even by McGonagall's standards, but the librarian's pursed lips did straighten very slightly.

"This library is for _studying_, Mr Potter, Miss Weasley," she said, her beaked nose jutting forward. "It is not here for you to conduct _other activities_, even under the present exceptional circumstances! Please remember that in future!" She turned on her heel and marched back to her desk, and Harry breathed a small, astonished sigh of relief.

"I thought she was going to set flying books on us again," he muttered.

Ginny grinned, then bit her lip. "I think she likes me, you know," she whispered. "Because of the way we fought the Carrows. It was horrible in Hogwarts last year – him teaching everyone the Dark Arts, her ranting on about how terrible it was that blood traitors made laws saying Muggles should be given the same rights as wizards. It actually made us wish we had Binns back – even if he didn't cover whole chunks of the O.W.L. syllabus because he'd forgotten it had changed since 1922. Honestly, you wouldn't believe it, but the library was one of the best places to be. You could lose yourself in a book, as if failing your N.E.W.T.s was the worst thing you had to worry about. And _stop_ looking guilty, Harry! It's over now, and it wasn't even _your_ fault in the first place."

Harry nodded. "We, er, should talk about that, shouldn't we?" he said awkwardly. Despite all the occasions during the last year when he'd wondered what things were like for Ginny at Hogwarts, he hadn't yet actually given her a chance to tell him.

"Yes," Ginny said seriously. Then she grinned again. "If we have time …" She glanced at the tottering stacks of books next to them, and her expression sobered. "Later though, right? We need to get to work on this lot first."

Harry nodded. It was a fair point – it was, after all, what they had come to Hogwarts to do, even if there had been interesting developments in the meantime. "Yeah, OK. You take that pile, I'll take this one." He opened the first book and stared at the title page without any real enthusiasm – although the inner warmth he felt when he contemplated what had just happened removed any possible tendency towards gloom.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry wouldn't, however, have blamed Andromeda Tonks for feeling gloomy, although it was hard to tell quite what she _was_ feeling – despite Molly Weasley's best efforts to draw her out, she'd been alarmingly quiet and withdrawn ever since arriving at The Burrow. He saw her sitting in the garden with Teddy the following morning, and reluctantly decided that he ought to go and make some sort of attempt to reassure her that things would be all right (though neither he nor Ginny had yet found much that seemed likely to help).

"Er, Mrs Tonks, are you OK?" he asked, wishing he hadn't as soon as he'd said it. Under the circumstances it was a question with a fairly obvious answer.

She turned slowly, and he could see that she was collecting herself. "Well, I have been better," she said. "Thank you for helping us, Mr Potter. I know I don't have any claim on you --"

"_Teddy_ has. And I'd want to help even if he didn't. I really liked your daughter and Lupin," he added awkwardly. "They were good friends to me, and, well, you know how sorry I am about what happened. Really, I am. Um, really."

She nodded, and even managed a tentative half-smile. "I don't _blame_ you, if that's what you were thinking. I don't -- I'm sorry I haven't been much of a guest to you all -- I just can't believe all this is _happening_ to me!" she cried suddenly, and Harry jumped. "First Ted, then Nymphadora and her husband, and now they want Teddy too? He's the only family I have, can't they leave me with _anything_?"

"What about --" Harry paused, remembering Mrs Malfoy's name next to a hole on the tapestry in Grimmauld Place; he wasn't sure it would be tactful to mention her, even if she _had_ helped him in the Forest.

"Narcissa?" Her scorn was evident, although at least her outburst seemed to have brought a bit of colour back to her cheeks. "My dear sister has never spoken so much as a word to me since I married Ted. Oh, she's not as bad as –" again, her expression turned ugly "– well, anyway, let's not talk about _her_. I sometimes wish I'd been an only child like – like Nymphadora –"

For one moment of discomfort Harry thought she might break down again, but instead she swallowed compulsively and turned to stroke Teddy's hair, which had just turned an especially nauseous shade of orange. He seemed to be the only thing that was keeping her from complete collapse, and as he watched them Harry resolved again to do everything possible to win.

"Brothers and sisters aren't too bad if you've got decent ones," he said quietly and hesitantly after a second or two. "I've got people who are _like_ brothers and sisters to me. I hope it'll be the same for Teddy …" He trailed off. He'd been thinking of himself; even now, the Weasleys treated him as another son, and Hermione was practically a sister to him, but the sudden consideration that substitute siblings for Teddy might include his _own_ kids was quite a shock. It seemed almost abstract, unreal -- and definitely not something to contemplate seriously right now. After all, he and his girlfriend were still finding out if they could manage so much as a few weeks together without major dramas. "And I'll be there for him too as godfather, I promise," he added quickly. "I know it meant a lot to me to have Sirius. I wish I'd been able to live with him. I'll do everything I can for Teddy, Mrs Tonks."

"Ah, Sirius." Andromeda Tonks's smile was both fond and regretful. "One of the few decent members of my family. He didn't come round to visit us very often, but I was always pleased to see him. So was Nymphadora, even as a child. He used to tease her and call her 'Nymph' -- she'd have thrown a tantrum if anyone else had done that, but somehow he managed to get away with it. I'd forgotten he was your godfather, Mr Potter – he was so _proud_ of that when he told me, although he hoped he'd never need to actually take over as guardian from your parents. I wish I'd had the chance to _tell_ him how terribly sorry I was for thinking he'd killed those people, but at least I knew from Nymphadora that it wasn't true a good year before it all came out publicly. She told me afterwards that she'd apologised to him on my behalf, and he asked her to thank me."

"He said to me once that you were his favourite cousin," said Harry, remembering.

"Did he?" She sounded extremely touched. "I'm glad Nymphadora had the chance to meet him as an adult. She couldn't tell me she was in contact with him while he was alive – '_Order rules_', you see." She took a deep breath. "I was always proud of her, Mr Potter. Always. For becoming an Auror, for joining the Order of the Phoenix, for wanting to do some _good_ in the world. And I was always _terrified_ for her because of the danger she was in. Sometimes your nightmares just come true, don't they?" Harry didn't know how to answer this – other than 'yes' – but Mrs Tonks didn't seem to expect a reply. "But she always did what she believed in – whether it was fighting Dark wizards or standing up for her friends at school or marrying Remus Lupin." Her eyes had moistened, but strangely enough talking about her lost loved ones actually seemed to be helping.

"Tell me more about her," said Harry on impulse. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ginny crossing the yard from the back door, obviously expecting him to join her for another trip to the Hogwarts library, and he gave her a tiny shake of the head. She looked puzzled for a moment, but comprehension dawned as she heard his next words, and she didn't interrupt as she sat down next to them. "And … and tell me more about Sirius, too, if you want to. I'd like to know …"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ron and Hermione turned up the following day, to Harry's delight – although privately, he had to admit to himself that spending time in the library with Ginny had definitely been more fun than it ever had with Hermione. On the other hand, her expert assistance made their task a great deal easier. She had soon filled several feet of parchment with notes, and acquired a expression that he could only describe as wistful longing whenever she looked around the school. Harry exchanged sympathetic glances with Ron as she heaved yet another deep sigh; his friend probably cared even less about taking his N.E.W.T.s than Harry did, but they could both tell that for Hermione the loss of their last year at Hogwarts really _hurt_.

"I don't like the look of this much, but it's not as bad as it might be," she told them once they were back at The Burrow and safely camped in Ron's room, in order to prevent Andromeda Tonks overhearing anything that might further distress her. She'd seemed a little more at ease since their talk the previous morning, but there was still an understandable hint of panic in her eyes whenever the tribunal was mentioned.

"How come?"

"Remus and Tonks definitely broke the law by getting married without permission. Kingsley got his secretary to look up the records; she found a separate summons issued for that shortly after the ceremony, but nobody seems to have made any serious attempt to enforce it – I don't suppose they had written proof, and it probably got lost in the chaos when the Ministry fell. They wouldn't have been able to find them to arrest them anyway."

"I thought Muggle marriages were valid?" objected Ginny, and Ron nodded. "A couple of our cousins got hitched that way, and all they had to do was register it with the Ministry."

"Yes, but they weren't werewolves, were they? That 1741 Agreement says that no werewolf may marry _at all _unless it's deemed to be valid by their local Ministry, and if they'd – well, lived – they'd have been in trouble, because Ministries often _don't_ grant approval for a werewolf to get married, even when they're not being run by the prejudiced. That must be why they went for a Muggle marriage, to thumb their noses at people like Umbridge. McGonagall said Remus told her once that he hadn't even looked up that part of the law, because he never expected to get married in the first place."

"Poor sod. We'll have to have a word with Kingsley about _that_ policy, then, won't we?" said Ron, and the smiles he and Hermione exchanged seemed to have something private about them.

Harry, amused, glanced at Ginny, who smirked and rolled her eyes. Their friends had arrived back at The Burrow holding hands as if it had never occurred to them to do anything else, and in response to Harry's raised eyebrows admitted that they were now (in Hermione's words) 'an item'. Naturally, this piece of good news had resulted in a round of cheers, hugs, ribald jokes, and pats on the back from everyone present. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione had blushed most. In the rush to work on Teddy Lupin's case, they hadn't really talked about it much (although Mrs Weasley had begun to offer advice, before being dissuaded by a tactful cough from her husband), but Harry was sure everyone would have worked it out anyway. It was hard _not_ to notice a difference in the way they were behaving towards each other.

He hastily dragged his attention back to what Hermione was saying: "… also a clause directly relating to offspring, it's Teddy's birth that seems to have actually triggered the summons for Remus and Tonks to appear before the Ministry." She saw Harry's puzzled expression and explained, "It's dated three days _before_ Voldemort's fall and signed by some minor official. Umbridge must have discovered it after the battle and decided to enforce it, I suppose."

"What does this Agreement actually _say_, anyway?" asked Ron.

Hermione rummaged among the many rolls of parchment currently littering the bed. "Hang on, I made a copy … OK, these are the relevant bits:

"_Be it hereby decreed by the will of Wizardkind, expressed in the Proceedings of the most noble International Confederation of Wizards, that in order to prevent the further spread of the dread Curse of Lycanthropy, which has caused such general Alarm and Distress, it is necessary that certain Steps shall be taken, as follows …_

"_XVII. Since the Purpose of the Institution of Marriage is in the general Circumstance for the Procreation and Raising of Offspring, and it is considered that there is great Risk of the Curse being passed in the Blood, no Werewolf shall be permitted to marry, except that in exceptional Cases where such a Marriage may be considered expedient or an act of Mercy, the several Ministries may permit the same and recognise such a Union as valid, at their Discretion and according to their applicable Laws. And each Ministry shall set for itself the severity of the Punishment that shall be meted out to those who offend against this Rule, except that in all Cases such a Marriage shall be deemed never to have been valid if Approval be not given._

"_XVIII. As the necessary Complement to the previous Clause, no Werewolf shall be permitted to father Offspring, nor to raise them, regardless of their state of Wedlock, unless they shall first have been married in a Ceremony recognised as valid under the Requirements of said Clause. And the Punishment for the Breach of the Rule shall also be at the Discretion of each Ministry, except that under no Circumstance shall the Werewolf in breach be permitted to raise Offspring, and any that they have sired shall be placed in safe and secure Surroundings to be Raised such that the Risk of Infection be the least possible. And the several Ministries are charged to make provision for such Surroundings as best they may see fit."_

Hermione paused to catch her breath. "I suppose they must have put that 'already married' clause in to allow for werewolves who already _had_ children when they were bitten --"

"_Father_ offspring? What about _bearing_ children, didn't female werewolves count?" interrupted Ginny angrily.

"Um, it wouldn't apply … the first transformation by a pregnant werewolf kills the child, and often the mother too," answered Hermione, looking upset. The other three winced. "Knowing Remus, he probably worried it would work in reverse and beat himself up over it, but that's silly."

Ron's thoughts had been on a different track. "What's that 'risk of infection' thing about?" he asked. "Teddy Lupin was born over a month ago, wasn't he? There must have been at least one full moon since then, and if he didn't grow a tail or anything it's got to be pretty obvious he's not a werewolf."

"There's only Andromeda Tonks's word for that now, though." Harry opened his mouth to comment on this, but Hermione hastened to add, "Yes, _we_ believe her, but the Ministry don't seem to. And they might claim it takes time to develop – as far as I can tell that was why the Statute was written that way in the first place … I mean, the whole _thing's_ nonsense; lycanthropy can't be passed in the blood – but they didn't know any better in 1741, and they've never changed the law. "

"And that 'secure surroundings' bit?" said Ginny. "Where does it say Teddy should be put in a home?"

"Oh, that's just a coda to the Agreement," replied Hermione, looking inexplicably happy. "Ministries of Magic were supposed to encourage the founding of orphanages where the children of werewolves could be raised and taught safely until they came of age."

"There _isn't_ one," Harry objected. "Kingsley said so."

"Not in _Britain_, no. But I remember reading a footnote in _An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe_ saying there was only one on the continent willing to accept such children. It's in Germany; apparently they have a problem werewolf population in the Black Forest. That must be where they're planning to send Teddy Lupin."

Harry blinked; no part of this sounded like good news. "So why are you looking so pleased about it?"

"I think they're overreaching," said Hermione smugly. "Obviously Umbridge didn't pay enough attention to those old records Kingsley had her going through, because she doesn't seem to have looked closely at the case histories. There's definitely precedent for putting children in the care of a non-lycanthropic family member instead – if there actually _is_ one willing to take them, like Andromeda. It just hasn't happened very often. Most of the time, I'm afraid, the families had already disowned the werewolf's spouse, and wanted nothing to do with a grandchild who was the offspring of one."

"Dumping their own grandkids? That's _sick_," said Ron with a expression of deep disgust on his face, and Hermione gave him another tender look that made Harry squirm. He couldn't pin down exactly what had caused the difference in the way they acted towards each other; although as soon as he thought that he quickly decided not to try.

"So you think you can counter whatever Umbridge has to say, then?" he asked.

"I hope so. It all depends on who's running the tribunal. If they're willing to listen to a reasonable alternative proposal, and I can manage to explain it properly …"

"Course you can," said Ron loyally, and Harry bit his lip to prevent himself smiling. His friends weren't quite at the Bill and Fleur level of general soppiness yet, but they seemed to be getting there, and it had the potential to become every bit as excruciatingly embarrassing as he'd once feared it might. On the whole, though, he felt relieved; they finally seemed officially and comfortably _together_. Occasional moments of awkwardness for him were a small price to pay for that. And at the very least it meant they weren't driving him mad by dancing around the subject during every conversation …

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

An unexpected visitor arrived at The Burrow the following lunchtime.

"Oh, Kingsley!" cried Molly, looking somewhat flustered. "I didn't know you were coming, Arthur never mentioned --"

Kingsley Shacklebolt held up a hand. "That's all right, Molly. I'm just claiming the Ministerial privilege of an extended lunch break. Actually, I wanted to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Do you have anywhere private we can talk?"

"My room," said Ron before his mother could answer. "It's been our headquarters for the last few days. Mrs Tonks is in the sitting-room, so we can't use that for a Ministerial conference this time." Kingsley looked puzzled, but Harry grinned; this meeting was a lot more welcome than the previous occasion the Minister for Magic had visited The Burrow to seek them out.

On the other hand, he had a bone to pick with the Minister this time as well. "So why _does_ Umbridge still have a job where she can make trouble?" he asked as soon as they'd closed the door and cast _Muffliato_ on it.

"Or any job at all, for that matter," added Ron.

The interim Minister's expression was grim. "I daren't sack her … yet." He waited for the storm of protest from the other three to subside. "Look, if I kick her out, I can't give her _orders_. As soon as I took over, I assigned a large pile of routine paperwork to all the people I thought were corrupt, to keep them from causing mischief while I worked out who was playing politics with whom. If I dismiss her, she can devote _all_ her efforts to undermining me. It's ironic really, normally she's the sort who always follows the party line that the Minister hands down. But even someone as stupid as she is must know she'll be in trouble once we start formal investigations. She has a sadistic streak a mile wide, and the regime last year gave her opportunities to indulge it that were just too good to miss."

"Yeah, we know. We saw her," said Harry. His eyes flicked involuntarily to the back of his right hand. "Does it _matter_ what she might or might not do?"

"I don't _know_," said Kingsley. "Believe me, Harry, I didn't get this job without a hell of an argument! In the end, the rump Wizengamot only agreed to appoint me interim Minister because there wasn't anyone left in a senior position who hadn't been compromised, or marginalised, or just Imperiused – and they had to have _someone_ in charge who knew what they were doing. They haven't confirmed the appointment yet, and there are others angling for it who never thought much of the Order or the way we went about things. Far too many high-ranking people got their hands dirty last year – either because they liked the stance of the new regime, or did a little too well for themselves while cosying up to it. It's left them in a very shaky position, and they could be a powerful faction if they get their act together. And since Umbridge is in a shaky position _herself_, and knows more than most about the internal workings of the Ministry, she'd be a valuable recruit. She might be very sympathetic to the idea that the new Minister should be someone who won't attempt to punish people just because they followed the Ministry line, even if it was laid down by Voldemort."

"Only obeying orders?" said Hermione bitterly.

Kingsley nodded. "Exactly. As the Muggle Prime Minister once said to me about _his_ political opponents, better to have them inside the tent hexing out than outside the tent hexing in. Allowing for differences in terminology, of course."

"I suppose so," said Harry unwillingly. "Why is she so bothered about Teddy Lupin, anyway? It's not something she'd normally deal with, is it?"

Kingsley heaved a deep sigh. "No, it's not. It would have been a routine matter when news of the birth came across somebody's desk. I don't suppose for one minute that they actually expected Remus and Tonks to attend the hearing under the circumstances, especially since they'd ignored the previous summons and had been out of contact with the general public since then – well, except on _Potterwatch_, of course. Unfortunately, the second summons must have been in the batch of routine paperwork Umbridge got. Damn the woman! It never occurred to me that there'd be a problem – we all spent the last six months in hiding without bothering ourselves overmuch about what the Ministry thought about anything. But you know how she hates part-humans and people who oppose Ministry policy. She must have seen it as a golden opportunity to cause trouble and attack the Order's reputation."

"How did they even know Tonks had _had_ the baby in the first place?" said Ron angrily. "They weren't thick enough to register it, surely?"

"The Hogwarts quill, obviously," said Hermione. She looked at Ron and Harry's surprised faces with a familiar exasperation. "You know, the one that records the birth of all magical children in Britain? The Carrows would be bound to watch out for any babies born to people who opposed the Death Eaters. It would be an extra threat to hold over them, wouldn't it?"

"Exactly, Hermione," said Kingsley with approval. "At least it confirms that Teddy Lupin _is_ a wizard, though, and he should have a good future – if you can win the case tomorrow."

"_Tomorrow?_" yelled Harry, as Ron swore and Hermione stared open-mouthed. "You didn't tell us the bloody thing was _tomorrow!_"

"I tried to, Harry, that's why I came here, but you started asking me about Umbridge before I had the chance," said Kingsley with equanimity. "She still has friends in the Ministry, and evidently they would like this case heard before anyone can think of a legal way to spike it – or the next full moon comes along and renders the main argument moot. The tribunal's scheduled for noon tomorrow in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Are you confident you can win?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, who nodded uncertainly. "Yes, Minister. We've got all our notes in order, and I don't see that Umbridge really has a leg to stand on as far as Teddy's custody is concerned, so long as the presiding official isn't one of her cronies. She can definitely show that Remus and Tonks acted illegally in getting married in a Muggle ceremony, but since they can't be brought to trial now that won't make any difference, will it?"

"No. Good. And it's _Kingsley_ please, Hermione, not _Minister_, unless it's a formal occasion. After all that you three have done for us, the risks you've taken, you've earned the right not to stand on ceremony." Hermione turned pink and exchanged another look with Ron, who seemed extremely chuffed. Harry grinned. It made a nice change to have a Minister who was willing to work with him. Although since he'd mentioned risks taken … "Erm, how did it go with the goblins, by the way?" he asked, hoping he would want to hear the answer.

"Oh, we made good progress once we'd looked up all the agreements we needed to cite. I'm sure they already knew them and were hoping we didn't remember. A couple of junior goblins were muttering some shared joke about me having problems due to not knowing our own laws."

"I thought you said they were big on keeping agreements?"

Kingsley snorted. "Goblins study Ministry rules and regulations carefully, but if you don't know enough about them to present your side of the case, they certainly don't feel obliged to remind you. Especially when they're already offended."

They all nodded, remembering Griphook's smug comment to his fellow fugitives in the wood. "Do you think they _wanted_ you to overhear that?" asked Harry.

"I doubt it. By an odd coincidence, one of my colleagues at the meeting was a fluent speaker of Gobbledegook. I didn't see fit to mention that fact to them, as it happens. We all have our negotiating tactics. So, is there anything else you need?"

"Will we be able to get in without a lot of fuss?" Harry didn't especially want to have to run the gauntlet of another crowd wanting to congratulate him.

Kingsley slapped his forehead. "Good grief, I'd forgotten about that." He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a handful of tokens. "All the fireplaces are still blocked, you'll need these to get in through the visitors' entrance. There should be enough here to cover you, Andromeda, and anyone you want to bring as a witness. You know how to use them?" When Harry nodded, he added, "OK. Remind me to get the system changed back to how it used to be as soon as possible!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mrs Tonks took this new development stoically, but her frayed nerves were very evident. Harry had to admit too that Hermione's frantic manner as she explained her strategy for the hearing wasn't really helping. Ron was attempting to calm things down, but unfortunately he clearly had no idea how. As Hermione bent over her notes for a moment, he looked up at Harry with a grimace of enquiry.

Harry shrugged. "I'll, er, I'd better go and tell Ginny what's happening," he said, beating a hasty retreat to give himself time to clear his head.

He found her in the garden, staring moodily at a gnome that was chewing on something unidentifiable. Her expression darkened as he outlined what Kingsley had told them. "Poor Mrs Tonks," she said. "Have you got your plan all worked out, then?"

"Hermione has," said Harry. Honesty compelled him to add, "At least I _hope_ she has."

"I should think so. She's a smart girl. You'll let me know immediately how you all get on, won't you?"

Harry gaped at her. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"I don't know, Harry. Do you want me there?" She sounded oddly hurt.

"Of course we do!"

"_We?_" she said pointedly. He stared at her, confused, and she rolled her eyes. "Not _you_?"

"Well of course _me_ …" He trailed off, with an uneasy feeling that he was missing a very important point somewhere. "We've all been working together on this, haven't we?"

"Then why didn't you ask me to join you when Kingsley came?" She turned away and kicked a stone at the gnome, who swore at her and disappeared under a shrub, and Harry began to see dimly what the problem was. "I thought we were long past 'go away, Ginny' by now. And I'm hardly going to be in danger talking to the Minister for Magic!"

"No. Right." He tentatively put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. "Look, I didn't mean it like that. Kingsley said he wanted to see me, Ron, and Hermione, so --"

"He and you and everyone else are so used to it being just you three that you didn't even think to ask me to join you?" she finished, without turning her head to look at him. "Harry, you're not out in the middle of nowhere in a tent any more! I want _us_ to do some things together – I've been wanting that for a whole year and now I can't tell if _you_ have or not!"

Her voice had grown louder as she went along, and Harry found himself reacting to it. "Of course I have! I used to watch you every night on the Marauder's Map, make sure you were all right …"

"What?" she cried, spinning on her heel to face him. "Oh, not that again! It was a war, Harry, nobody was _all right_! Is that all you worried about? You didn't _miss_ me, or … or want to know what the DA were doing to fight back, or wonder if _I_ was missing _you_ like mad, dammit --"

"Of course it wasn't all I worried about!" he yelled, firing up. "Of course I missed you – like mad! Don't you think I _want_ a normal life for a change? I just never get the chance to have one!" Bitter words suddenly seemed to flow from him. "I _want_ to spend time with my girlfriend, and go flying, and turn on the WWN and listen to the Cannons losing again! But every time I try, something comes up, someone asks me to 'use my influence', somebody wants me to be the sodding Chosen One Who Lived! Those few weeks last year with you at Hogwarts – they really _were_ out of someone's else's life, weren't they? Someone else who got to do all the nice normal things without having to fight Dark wizards every other week! I've had to get so used to it I wouldn't know how you're _supposed_ to be normal even if they'd let me!"

"Harry?" He and Ginny spun round to see Ron and Hermione staring at them in shock. "Er …we think we've got everything sorted now," said Ron, making a visible effort to collect himself. "We'll all Apparate to that alley outside at eleven tomorrow and get to the room early, it'll give us time to get the lie of the land and all that. Anyway – yeah. Right." Harry was expecting him to comment on the argument, but instead he simply added, "Sorry we interrupted, mate. C'mon, let's leave them to it, eh?" He took the arm of a surprised Hermione and led her back into the house.

Harry looked at Ginny and felt regret wash over him. If even Ron was demonstrating more discretion than he was, things had clearly got out of hand. Maybe Hermione wasn't the only one experiencing reaction setting in. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I mean, it's not your fault. Yeah, you're right, it's been just me, Ron, and Hermione for so long I'm used to it … And I'm not used to having the chance to be … ordinary."

Ginny took his hands in hers. "You'll never be ordinary, Harry," she said softly. He could tell she was fighting the urge to shout, but just like him she did seem to be making a real effort to choose her words carefully. "You won the war. People are bound to ask you to help. You don't _have_ to do it, but we both know you will if you can, it's what you're like. But it doesn't mean you can't do all the ordinary things too, now the war's over. Especially the spending time with your girlfriend part!"

Harry smiled. "I have to get the hang of that. Look – I'll try not to leave you out of things again," he added seriously. "Bad habit, obviously. Give me time to get used to it, though?" His voice sounded far more plaintive than he'd intended. "I don't want to keep having arguments about it every five minutes."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Don't worry about that," she whispered. "I've wanted this for ages. I really _did_ miss you like mad last year. Now we've come this far, I'm not letting the fact you're being a prat get in the way. I … I suppose I'm being a bit of a prat myself, to be fair. And talking about prats …" She stared at the door where Ron and Hermione had been. "Maybe he's learning. Or do you think we should warn Hermione that someone's kidnapped my brother and replaced him with a Polyjuiced impostor?"

Harry laughed out loud in sheer relief. "Nah, she's a smart girl, she'll work it out for herself. All she has to do is ask him about the Cannons' chances for next season, and if he talks for less than half an hour she'll hex him …"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The following morning brought another unexpected message from Kingsley. This one was delivered by owl, and informed them that the hearing would be presided over by Amos Diggory.

"_Amos_?" said Ron in disbelief. "Who asked _him_ to do it?"

"Your father had a word with him," called Molly from the kitchen, where she was standing over Andromeda Tonks and insisting that she eat a proper breakfast to keep her strength up for the hearing. "He thinks he's the best chance we've got."

Hermione was studying the note. "Kingsley agrees. Umbridge's clique are happy with him because his anti-werewolf views are well known –" Harry scowled "– but he may be sympathetic to Andromeda in this case, because, well …"

"He knows what it's like to lose a kid," finished Harry. Any annoyance at Amos Diggory disappeared as he thought of Cedric, and he shook himself. "Right then, let's tell her we're ready …"

"Oh, no!" Ginny's gasp interrupted him, and he turned to see her look up from the morning edition of the _Prophet_. "Have you seen page five?"

"We haven't read it this morning," said Harry as Hermione snatched it from her hand. "I take it that means we're not going to like it?" he added in resignation when she gasped in turn.

"Rita Skeeter again," said Hermione grimly, rapidly scanning the page. "She's found out about the hearing. Oh, I don't believe this! She's just rehashing all that stuff they wrote before about Remus being dangerous, and going on about Tonks being fired as an Auror for consorting with Undesirables and Dark Creatures --"

"_What?_"

"You and Lupin, mate," said Ron sagely.

"Exactly! Of course, she doesn't mention that Voldemort was setting Ministry policy at the time! She even insinuates that it 'raises questions' that Kingsley was a friend of theirs, and there's a long sanctimonious editorial saying that he needs to 'separate himself from the more unsuitable elements of the resistance' now he's Minister! And –" her expression turned from furious to stony "– she says they were both killed in the battle of Hogwarts, but she doesn't say who they were fighting for. She makes it sound like they were with the _Death Eaters!_"

"Umbridge must have tipped her off, I'll bet," said Harry darkly.

"Well, of course she did," snapped Hermione. "She's obviously hoping to influence Mr Diggory. Ooh, I can't wait to see the expression on her face when she realises her little plan hasn't worked."

_(Okay, one brief author's note. If you were wondering what happened to Ron and Hermione while they were away in Australia -- well, let's say it might be something very like my earlier _In The Bleak Midwinter. :D_)_


	3. Legal Arguments

**Part 3: Legal Arguments**

Harry had no intention of mentioning it to Hermione, but as they all sat waiting for Amos Diggory, he had a nasty feeling that Umbridge's plan had worked very well. She apparently thought so too; she was sitting on the opposite side of the room wearing such a smug expression that Harry had to bite his tongue to stop himself using it to imitate the sound of a centaur's hooves. Worse still, Rita Skeeter was there – Quick-Quotes Quill at the ready.

He turned to Hermione and muttered, "Can't you have a quick word and stop her _beetling around_?"

"I told her I wouldn't say anything if she kept quiet for a year," she whispered loftily, then blushed at the incredulous stares from the rest of her party. "And besides, I checked and she registered herself last year. I suppose she thought that now the Death Eaters were in charge, she didn't have anything to gain by keeping it secret -- Malfoy and his friends all knew about her, surely _one_ of them must have told his dad. Anyway, I can't prove she could do it before."

"Great." Harry glanced about him; a few spectators had turned up, and most of them were carrying copies of the morning paper. It was hard to ignore their curious stares in the rather cramped surroundings. It seemed that a spare meeting room had been turned into an impromptu courtroom. In front of the far door someone had set up a raised platform on which a large desk had been placed. There was a chair on a small dais off to one side, presumably for the use of witnesses, and a few rows of benches at the other end of the room arranged to create a central aisle.

When Diggory arrived through the door in the back wall, Harry noted with trepidation that he too had a copy of the paper tucked under his arm, and it was folded open at page five. Andromeda Tonks had obviously spotted this too, and held little Teddy even closer. As Diggory sat down behind the desk, Harry exchanged concerned glances with his friends; once again they were relying on Hermione's brains to get them out of a sticky situation. He made a mental note that he really ought to let her know sometime how much he appreciated it.

"This is a tribunal duly appointed to hear a complaint concerning a breach of the provisions of the International Werewolf Agreement of 1741, Amos Joshua Diggory, presiding. Scribe –" he nodded to a hapless-looking functionary who was taking notes "– Alan Clarence Boot. Complaining witness, Dolores Jane Umbridge." Harry bit his lip; if he'd understood Hermione's hastily researched explanations of wizarding law correctly, that meant Umbridge would in effect be acting as prosecutor. "I must confess, I've never had to deal with an actual hearing on this law before, so we'll take this slowly, step by step. The purpose of the tribunal is to determine the status and provision for the upbringing of Teddy Remus Lupin, son of Remus John Lupin, werewolf, and Nymphadora Andromeda Lupin, wife of the aforementioned --"

"_Hem, hem_."

Harry was distracted from the reflection that he now understood why Tonks hadn't just used her middle name by a familiar irritating cough. Diggory looked up in annoyance at the interruption. "Yes, Dolores?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Amos, but I would just like to point out that the Ministry's contention is that this baby's parents were never, in fact _could_ never have been, legally married. Although I understand Nymphadora Tonks chose to go by this … _werewolf's_ name that she was never entitled to bear, it would be wrong for the tribunal to use it, wouldn't it?"

Harry could sense Andromeda Tonks stiffen next to him, and Ginny made a disgusted noise, but Diggory didn't seem to object. "Oh, very well, I suppose you're right. I see the defence seem to be amply supplied with witnesses – do any of you wish to speak on this point?"

Hermione promptly stood up, and held up a document that Harry could see was on ordinary paper, not parchment. "Yes, sir. Hermione Jean Granger, witness for the defence. I have here an official certificate of marriage for the parties, which ceremony took place in the parish of St Edmund's on 16th July 1997." Her voice took on a slight edge. "This is why Nymphadora Lupin certainly felt she was entitled to bear her _husband's_ name if she so chose."

Diggory looked interested. "May I see that, Miss Granger?" Hermione presented him with the certificate; he examined it briefly, then nodded. "Very well. I see this is a Muggle document, but that's normally accepted as sufficient proof of intention for the marriage to be registered under wizarding law as well. Did the Ministry refuse approval for it to be registered, Dolores?"

"Yes indeed, Amos." She rose and approached the desk. "While the Ministry is of course prepared to graciously accept such an otherwise irrelevant document under _normal _circumstances, sadly these circumstances are _far _from normal, as Mr Lupin was a somewhat notorious werewolf." She shuddered theatrically. "The International Confederation of Wizards wisely decided many years ago that marriages between such creatures and normal wizards and witches should be _strongly _discouraged, as should their reproduction, because of the obvious risks to all concerned … but especially the innocent children of such a union," she added with a broadly insincere smile. "When we received news of the birth, I even heard people in the _Ministry itself_ threaten to take the law into their own hands to ensure that the boy would never be allowed to grow up in the company of normal children, so really it's better for everyone, isn't it?" Harry, taken aback, thought for a moment and realised the 'people in the Ministry' must have been her Death Eater cronies, still in charge at the time the news came through. "I hope you'll allow me to draw the attention of the tribunal to the Confederation's words, insofar as they bear on this matter: _'Be it hereby decreed by the will of Wizardkind expressed in the Proceedings of the most noble International Confederation of Wizards …'_"

Diggory listened in silence, but with the occasional nod, as Umbridge recited the same clauses of the Statute that Hermione had read out at The Burrow; it was possible to actually _hear_ the capital letters in her enunciation. "Thank you, Dolores. You can state on behalf of the Ministry that no recognition of validity was given in this case?"

"I certainly can, Amos. Naturally, we had no choice but to bring this action when I dis -- when we were informed of the birth of this poor child to such parents – a clear crime in the absence of a valid marriage. Of course, such an attempt to evade the law by taking part in an unrecognised ceremony merely compounds the criminality. I think it's best for all concerned if the child is removed to the safe and secure place for which the statute provides, in case it has inherited the infection, don't you? We can't tell when it might show itself, and one has to think of the safety of other children it may come into contact with."

Andromeda made as if to rise, but Hermione flapped a hand to warn her off, a gesture that Diggory noticed. "Miss Granger? You seem to be the spokeswitch for the defence here. The wording of the statute seems quite clear, I'm afraid – the parents of this baby quite evidently committed a crime. Or are you in turn disputing that?"

"No, not at all," said Hermione, taking the question in her stride. Harry exchanged grins with Ron; she seemed to be in her element. "Given the wording of the statute, we're perfectly prepared to concede that _prima facie_, it seems that Remus and Nymphadora Lupin must have committed an offence. But I'd like to point out that any such offence is of little consequence for the future of _Teddy_ Lupin. As both of his parents were killed while defending Hogwarts against the Death Eaters, there is no way to prosecute them, nor impose punishment by removing their child from them. Teddy is currently in the care of his closest surviving relative, Andromeda Tonks, and there is no reason to remove him from _her_."

"But the law requires that the child be raised in _secure_ surroundings, Miss Granger," said Umbridge sweetly, a tone of voice that Hermione matched.

"Exactly, Madam Umbridge. But as you will note – and may I take this opportunity to thank you for reading the Statute into the record so that there can be no argument about the wording? – it lays down no requirements as to the actual _nature_ of such secure surroundings, leaving that to the decision of the individual Ministries. I would like to draw the tribunal's attention to the cases of Ministry v Jenkins, 1788, Ministry v Cadwallader, 1844, and Ministry v Wadcock, 1921 – I have copies of the rulings here – in which it was accepted that the child of a werewolf could be placed in the care of a relative or other legal guardian who were not themselves sufferers of the curse, provided that they were willing and that sufficient precautions were taken."

Umbridge looked somewhat nonplussed that Hermione had all this information at her fingertips, and Harry grinned. Ginny squeezed Andromeda's hand as Diggory read the notes and nodded slowly. "And _is_ Andromeda Tonks willing, and capable of taking sufficient precautions? This is a serious matter, you know."

"Yes, sir. Andromeda Tonks is not only an extremely able witch in her own right, but has the full support of many friends, and is perfectly able to provide secure surroundings for Teddy Lupin until his nature becomes clear."

"Welllll … I suppose it _would_ be better for the boy to be brought up by a competent family member --"

"_Hem, hem._"

Harry could see Hermione clench her fist momentarily at Umbridge's latest interruption. Fortunately, Diggory didn't seem happy to be interrupted. "What is it now?"

"Well, it's just that I think we're getting ahead of ourselves a little, Amos. Before you make a ruling, don't you think that we ought to question Madam Tonks on what she proposes to do, rather than accept Miss Granger's mere word that she is a satisfactory guardian?"

Diggory flushed. "You don't have to tell me my job, Dolor -- Madam Umbridge. I had every intention of asking those questions. Madam Tonks, would you please step forward?"

Andromeda handed Teddy to Ginny and made her way to the front of the courtroom, and Harry was heartened to see that she held herself proudly, like the daughter of generations of Blacks that she was. Diggory pointed to the chair at the side and indicated that she should sit there. "Let's start doing this thing formally for a change. Your name?"

"Andromeda Elladora Tonks. Witness for the defence." Her voice was magnificently cold, and the look she directed at Umbridge would have made a less self-satisfied woman quail.

"Very well. Will you please confirm that you are the mother of Nymphadora Tonks --"

"Nymphadora _Lupin_."

"Hem, hem …"

"Yes, yes, all right! Let's not get sidetracked again. We'll express it this way, Madam Tonks; you are the only surviving grandparent of Teddy, the child in question?"

Andromeda Tonks swallowed, but her tone remained level. "I am."

"And you are willing to raise him as your own, despite his rather … _unusual_ parentage?" His distaste was obvious.

"I am indeed!"

"And you are willing and able to take all due precautions to protect against the possibility of him being lycanthropic? In particular, by isolating him on full moon nights?"

Her lip curled. "If you mean that I should abandon an innocent child to cry all night while the full moon is in the sky … then yes, I'll do that until the Ministry is satisfied that he poses no _threat_ to anyone, if that's really what it takes! I suppose I can dose him with a Sleeping Potion and reinforce the walls of his room with spells. It's what we needed to do for his father, and it always worked perfectly well."

Diggory nodded. "Well, that does appear to be adequately secure, especially as – if I understand correctly – the likelihood of Teddy Lupin actually having werewolf characteristics is very low. In that case, I suppose there's no reason you shouldn't be granted --"

"Hem, hem."

Harry could have sworn he heard Diggory grit his teeth. "_Yes_, Madam Umbridge?"

"May _I_ just ask a few little questions too, Amos? It wouldn't do to make a mistake, now would it? Let's be sure that Madam Tonks can be relied upon to _continue_ to do what she says she will."

"Oh, very well." He sighed in resignation. "Go ahead, then, ask your questions."

"Madam Tonks." Umbridge smiled sweetly. "What will you do if Mr Diggory's understanding is not correct, and the child does turn out to be affected by the curse of lycanthropy?"

"I would still love him as my grandchild regardless," said Andromeda Tonks heatedly. "And raise him, because it is the right thing to do, and because that is the only thing I can now do for my daughter." There was a tremor in her voice, and Harry felt slightly alarmed that she might break down, but she made it through to the end of the statement with her head held high.

"And for your – well, let us call him your supposed son-in-law for the sake of this discussion – is it the only thing you can do for him too?"

"Yes, for him as well."

"You seem to lack a certain enthusiasm when talking about him, my dear. Could it be that you have a natural antipathy towards werewolves? One that might show itself in a certain lack of determination in raising this child?"

"Remus Lupin was a good man regardless of his … affliction," she said stiffly. "My daughter would not have married him if he had not been. And I had time to get to know him well enough to see that for myself. I will not lack _determination_ in raising my grandson."

Umbridge ignored this last claim. "You had 'time' to get to know him, you say? Then surely you didn't approve of him at first. What mother could?"

Mrs Tonks moved uncomfortably in her seat. "Well no, I wasn't happy at first. I admit that. My husband and I attended the wedding under protest, to an extent, merely in order to support our daughter. But opinions change."

Harry glanced at Umbridge and felt a sudden sense of foreboding; her eyes seemed to be gleaming, and her expression was the one he'd always felt meant that something very unpleasant was about to happen. "Under protest, Madam Tonks?" she said with a wide smile. "Dear, dear. Do you mean that you actually attempted to _prevent_ this so-called wedding when you attended it?"

"No, of course I didn't!" snapped Andromeda. "I sang along with the hymns, I watched them sign the register, I kissed my daughter –" her voice trembled again "– and offered both of them my congratulations. I may not have been happy with the marriage at the time – I may even have been disgusted – but Nymphadora was a grown woman and my only child, and I would not be so _uncouth_ as to refuse to attend her wedding, nor to make a scene while there!"

Umbridge nodded. "I see. Yes, I see. Are you familiar with the Miscellaneous Provisions Order of 1809?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Andromeda Tonks blinked. "No. Should I be?"

"Oh yes. Oh yes, indeed, Madam Tonks, you should have been." Umbridge's voice was honeyed now, and Hermione turned to glance back at the others with a look of alarm on her face. They all knew that tone, and what it might presage, far too well. Umbridge rummaged in her notes and selected a sheet of parchment. "I fou – I myself was reminded of it only the other day when looking into a different matter. Let me read you the text of Clause Fourteen …

"'_Whereas it has been observed that the Number of so-called Marriages between Wizards or Witches and those affected by the Curse of Lycanthropy, performed according to the Practice of the Muggles, and not approved by the Ministry of Magic, has been increasing; And whereas it has also been observed that Persons of good Standing are frequently in attendance at same, and do offer encouragement to the Procreation of the Werewolf by their assistance in the Raising of Offspring of such illegitimate Unions; And whereas it has further been observed that in both Matters this is in defiance of the Law of the Land laid down in an Agreement of the International Confederation of Wizards, and contrary to Public Policy; Be it therefore enacted by the Ministry of Magic, and by the consent of the Wizengamot duly assembled, that it shall be a Crime to attend any Marriage that would be Illegal and Invalid according to the Laws regarding Werewolves then in force, or to assist with the Arrangements for such, without reporting same to the competent Authorities in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, to enable them to take Action to prevent it, or if Time be pressing and such a Report not possible, without taking all Steps that may be feasible to prevent its Completion; And that it shall also be a Crime for such an Attendee to assist in raising the Child of such an attempted Union, as being a Person of insufficient Propriety for the Task; And that the Penalties for such an Offence shall in all Cases be the same as those to which the Parties attempting to contract such a Marriage would be liable under Clauses XVII and XVIII of the International Werewolf Agreement of 1741_.'"

She paused for a moment to savour the stricken expressions on the faces of everyone in Harry's party. "We already have your confession that you took no such action and made no such report, Madam Tonks," she said softly. "Your daughter and her unfortunate choice of mate may be beyond prosecution, but _you_ are not. But we can determine what charges should be brought against you later – the important thing at the moment is to consider whether you are a fit person to raise Teddy Lupin. And since the law states that you are subject to the same penalties as your daughter would have been – clearly, according to that law, you are _not_ fit."

Andromeda Tonks turned white; she sat frozen in her chair, and appeared to have gone into shock. Hermione too looked absolutely stricken, although Harry suspected that this was partly because she had failed to find the law that Umbridge had just read out. In some trepidation he looked up at Diggory, whose mouth had dropped open in surprise; he now closed it again, cleared his throat, and tried to find words. "Madam Umbridge, you must have known of this law if you had a copy of it to hand – why didn't you tell me this _before_?"

"Well, I'm afraid I didn't know I would need to until the defence decided on this line of argument, Amos," simpered Umbridge. "But one should always be prepared for such eventualities, should one not? Naturally I assumed that a _respectable_ woman such as Madam Tonks would never have lowered herself to condone and commit such crimes. It was only when she broke down under proper, _detailed_ questioning that the full sad nature of the case became clear."

Diggory flushed again, and Harry could tell he was stung by the criticism. "And what do you want me to do?"

"I think the answer is obvious, Amos. I leave it to you to rule on whether Madam Tonks should be prosecuted, in this time of leniency for past crimes." Ron snorted and muttered _'not for you'_ under his breath, and both Harry and Ginny nodded fervently. "But we return to the question of what should be done with this child, and I must insist that it be sent away as the law demands. After all –" she giggled girlishly "– Madam Tonks is its only blood relative of consequence, and I see no sign of any other relation who is willing and able to take charge of it."

Harry was on his feet before he even realised what he was doing, and everyone turned to look at him. Diggory raised his eyebrows. "Mr Potter? Do you wish to speak?"

There was a murmur of excitement from the spectators, but Harry ignored them and nodded. "Yes, sir. Harry James Potter –" he resisted the urge to say 'Trouble' instead of 'James', because this _definitely_ wasn't the right time for sarcasm "– witness for the defence – and godfather to Teddy Lupin." He swallowed, ignoring the gasps in the background. "I understand from my own experience that a godparent constitutes an acceptable legal guardian. So … _I_ would be willing to raise Teddy."

Everyone stared at him. Hermione had an unflatteringly sceptical expression, Ron gave the impression that he doubted his friend's sanity, and Ginny simply looked stunned. Harry felt exceptionally foolish. But in Andromeda Tonks's eyes there was a sudden tiny gleam of hope, and so he threw a defiant look in Umbridge's direction, and added, "Isn't that right, Hermione?"

Hermione shook herself and nodded vigorously, and any doubts she might have felt were not audible in her tone as she said, "Yes, that's correct. In fact, there's even precedent here – in the case of Ministry v Cadwallader previously mentioned, the child was placed in the care of her godfather."

Diggory seemed to be struggling to find words again. "How old are you, Mr Potter?"

"Seventeen – nearly eighteen," replied Harry. There were a few titters from the back of the room, but he ignored them.

"But … do you _really_ think you're capable of the challenge of bringing up a child?"

"I'm of age," he said defensively. "And my parents weren't that much older when they had me. And let's face it –" if he was ever going to play the 'Chosen One' card, now seemed as good a time as any "– over the last few years, I've had to deal with challenges a lot harder than bringing up a child!"

"And Harry too has plenty of people he can call on for help," added Hermione softly, and the two Weasleys nodded. All three of them had odd expressions as they looked at him – a mixture of pride and exasperation– although Hermione seemed worried as she glanced across at Umbridge, which was ominous.

Amos Diggory sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "Godfather, eh?" he said weakly. "Where's the parchment with that Cadwallader ca --"

"Hem, hem."

Diggory closed his eyes and appeared to be counting slowly to ten. His voice when he spoke suggested that he regretted ever having agreed to take on this tribunal. "Madam Umbridge. You wanted to speak?"

Umbridge's expression was furious, but her tone remained honeyed, albeit slightly mocking. "Thank you, Amos. Mr Potter, you amaze me. You were able to take time off from saving us to become a _godfather_? How did the parents ever manage to find you when none of us knew where you were?"

"My _friends_ knew where I was," replied Harry coldly.

"Surely you would be a very _dangerous_ choice of godparent for a newborn child?"

"I would have been _then_, yes," snapped Harry. "Not so much these days. You'll probably have noticed that Voldemort is dead now." He felt a rush of pleasure when Umbridge flinched. "Remus and Tonks _both_ wanted me to be Teddy's godfather."

Umbridge tilted her head to contemplate him. "_Wanted?_ I see. Where did the ceremony take place, dear? Was it also at this, er, accommodating St Edmund's?"

Too late, Harry saw the problem that Hermione had obviously already spotted. "Ceremony?" he asked, sparring for time.

"I believe it's traditional, isn't it? Do you mean to tell me that there has been _no_ christening ceremony for Teddy Lupin?"

"Not yet," said Harry, just as Hermione desperately interjected, "The intention of the parents was clear --"

"But not _officially recognised_, Miss Granger." Umbridge was triumphant now. "If Mr Lupin and Miss Tonks merely expressed a _wish_ to have Mr Potter as godfather, that is not sufficient to make him one, I'm afraid. Especially when said parents are clearly criminals who have tried to evade international wizarding law, and produced a half-breed of their own who is best kept away from innocent children in case it puts them at risk!"

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but before he had the chance to speak Ron had rocketed to his feet. Diggory coughed. "Er, do you want to --"

"Yes! Ronald Bilius Weasley, witness for the bloody defence!" snarled Ron. His ears had turned brick red, which was usually a sign that he'd heard enough to reach breaking point. "Lupin and Tonks are _war heroes_, not criminals! They just gave their _lives_ in the Battle of Hogwarts, you might have noticed – er, this tribunal might like to notice – oh, whatever. Amos, what the hell are you playing at here? You know me, you know my dad – he always said you were a good bloke. You must _know_ they weren't 'putting innocent children at risk' at Hogwarts, they were _protecting_ them – unlike half the Ministry top dogs, I might add, who turned up to help the Death Eaters attack the place! We ought to be giving them posthumous bloody Orders of Merlin, whatever some centuries-old law nobody's bothered to throw out yet says – not trying to ruin their kid's life by taking him away from his family – and _especially_ not to please somebody who did nothing all war but sit on her arse in her courtroom and persecute Muggle-borns because she liked Voldemort's mental theories!"

Harry blinked. Ron seemed to have covered the main points, and his tirade had clearly made an impression on Diggory. And unless Hermione could come up with yet another legal argument, an appeal to common sense seemed to their best – indeed only – remaining option. "Er, yeah, what he said. Both of them were in the Order of the Phoenix, they fought against Voldemort right from the start – that's more than the Ministry did."

Hermione broke off from giving Ron an excessively glowing look and quickly turned to the wavering Diggory, although Harry's heart sank as he realised that this time, she _didn't_ have another legal alternative to pull out of her beaded bag. "And what's more, Andromeda Tonks has now lost her husband, her only child –" Diggory's face tightened momentarily in pain "– and her son-in-law to the war," she added. "It would surely be grossly unfair for the Ministry to now deprive her of her grandchild --"

"_Hem, hem!_" Harry had been expecting this well before now, and turned to look at a spluttering Umbridge, whose face was like thunder. "If I could just be heard --"

"We've heard far too much from you already," muttered Ginny from the benches (slightly too audibly), but Diggory just nodded helplessly.

"_Thank_ you." Umbridge scowled at Ginny and then hitched an unconvincing smile back on her face. "While I am of course sympathetic to Madam Tonks's plight, I must point out that she has brought it on herself. And I am not aware of any law that contains provision for special treatment in cases where the werewolf or the witch they have defiled –" a few of the spectators gasped at this, but by no means all "– have been of service to the Ministry in partial recompense for their crimes. I see no argument for not following established procedure here."

"The Ministry doesn't always bother about established procedure, does it?" said Harry sarcastically. He held up his right hand so that the scars were visible.

"Yeah, remember Fudge trying to fit up Harry for defending himself against Dementors?" added Ron. "Oh right, of course you do – you were the one who sent them after him in the first place!"

"But we're trying to _change_ that now, Mr Weasley!" trilled Umbridge. "I seem to recall the new interim Minister claiming that he wanted to re-establish a culture of respect for the Ministry and its laws --"

"However monstrous and prejudiced those laws are?" interrupted Hermione with heat. "_I_ seem to recall the complaining witness showing similar enthusiasm for the Death Eater-inspired laws promoting persecution of Muggle-borns, ones which the interim Minister has declared were so offensive that no responsible wizard or witch could have found them acceptable – perhaps this is another case for allowing natural justice to prevail!"

"That's ENOUGH!"

Amos Diggory's unexpected yell managed to effectively silence the quarrelling witnesses. He sat back with an agonised look, rhythmically stroking his beard while he deliberated. "I need to think about this," he said eventually, holding up a peremptory hand to still any arguments. "I'm going to consider it overnight. I have to say that I don't think I'm entitled to overrule the ICW statute – law of the Medes and Persians and all that – but I intend to thoroughly check the precedents to see whether I have any room for manoeuvre. I'm instructing everyone to return at noon tomorrow for my decision." He paused to glare at Umbridge and Hermione, who both looked as if they wanted to say something. "You may make any further _relevant_ arguments that occur to you _then_. And don't waste your time trying to get the baby christened overnight – since the parents didn't put anything down in writing, I'm not having the grandmother appoint substitutes until her _own_ status as guardian is determined. This tribunal is _adjourned_."

He rose and disappeared through the door behind him so quickly that he might have Disapparated. Umbridge turned to Harry, smiled at him in triumph, and strode out of the courtroom with Rita Skeeter hastily following on behind. Harry could hear her asking for an interview as they trotted down the corridor. The spectators slowly filed out behind them, leaving Harry's party alone in the room.

"No!" Harry's attention jerked back as Andromeda Tonks stood up. "_No!_ Give me Teddy!" she snapped at a startled Ginny. "Give him to me _right now_!"

"Mrs Tonks --" began Hermione in a placating manner.

"NO! I am NOT letting that … that Ministry _creature_ take Teddy away!" The note of hysteria which had been on the edge of Andromeda's voice for days was beginning to break through again; Ron put a firm hand on her arm, but she continued to shout as she tried fruitlessly to shrug him off. "_Give him to me!_ I'll take him away where she can't find him …"

"Where's that, Mrs Tonks?" asked Ron, slightly out of breath from the exertion of keeping her from running out. "Look … if you run off now, they'll see, they'll stop you before you ever get out of the building! That Umbridge cow is probably off right now telling her pet Auror Dawlish to come and watch you!"

"Then what are you going to _do?_" she yelled. "How are you going to _stop_ her?"

"Don't worry about _that_," said Harry fiercely. "One way or another, we're going to. But now's not the time to do it – look, just go back to The Burrow where it's safe, and give us time to work out the details." He turned to Ginny with a pleading look. "Can you take charge of her?" he added in a low voice – of them all, she was the one Andromeda Tonks had seemed most comfortable with – and after a moment's hesitation she nodded and brought Teddy over.

"Come on, Andromeda," she said quietly. "Let's get back home. I trust Harry." As Teddy began to cry and Andromeda comforted him, Ginny muttered so that the older woman couldn't hear, "What _are_ you going to do?"

"I'm not sure," he replied grimly, and just as quietly. "I'll come back and tell you if we think of something. But first, we're going to go and see Kingsley Shacklebolt and find out what _he_ can do about it."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ron and Hermione followed along right at Harry's heels as he strode out of the Magical Creatures department and took the lift to the Ministerial level. "Do you think he'll see us?" asked Hermione, slightly out of breath as she tried to keep up with Harry's near-run and Ron's long strides.

"You heard what he said, Hermione – 'you've earned the right not to stand on ceremony'," Ron pointed out.

"He'd better have meant it," said Harry, skidding to a halt in front of a desk outside the Ministerial offices, at which a haughty-looking secretary was writing memos. He took a second or two to gather himself for a courteous request. "Excuse me, we need to see the Minister. I know it's short notice but it is rather urgent --"

"I'm afraid the Minister is very busy and isn't seeing anyone without an appoint --" She looked up, trailed off as she saw who was asking, and practically bounced in her chair. "Oo! _Harry Potter!_"

"That's me," said Harry, fixing a polite smile on his face. "Scar and everything."

"Of _course_ you can see the Minister, Mr Potter!" In two seconds flat her manner had been transformed from something resembling Aunt Petunia at her worst to something resembling Lavender Brown at _her_ worst, but the change was nevertheless distinctly promising.

"Told you," muttered Ron succinctly.

The woman looked round at the sound and gasped. "But you're … Ron Weasley! And you must be Hermione Granger! Oh, I'm so honoured to meet you all! Would you –" she took a moment to gather herself "– I mean, if you don't mind … could I possibly have your autographs?"

Harry exchanged glances with the others; as he expected, Ron was preening, and Hermione blushing and trying to conceal how flattered she was. They all scrawled their names on a piece of parchment, and the witch clutched it to her chest as she knocked on the Ministerial door and went in.

"Blimey, that was easy," said Ron, grinning. "I might have been less miserable last year if I'd known that being a war hero would get you in anywhere."

"Worked for me," said Hermione innocently.

Harry was distracted from Ron's spluttering by the door opening again, as Kingsley's secretary escorted out a youngish man who looked vaguely familiar. "The Minister will see you now, Mr Potter," she said. "Mr Proudfoot, I'm sorry to interrupt your meeting, would you mind waiting here until the Minister has finished?"

"No problem," said the man, with a wink at Harry. "It's a madhouse downstairs at the moment, it's nice to get away for a bit." He dropped into a chair and settled down to read the morning paper.

Kingsley appeared in the doorway. "Harry, Ron, Hermione – good to see you. Come in." As they followed him into the office, he continued, "Can I assume that everything's satisfactorily resolved?"

"No," said Harry bluntly, and Kingsley's face fell. The new Minister listened grimly as Hermione took over to explain what had happened, then sat back in his chair and spat one very emphatic expletive.

"Snap," said Ron.

"Can you put a stop to this?" asked Harry. Other questions could wait.

Kingsley ran a hand across his head – he gave the impression of wishing he had hair to run his fingers through. "I don't think I _can_, Harry."

"Why ever not?" said Harry over Ron and Hermione's protests.

"Because the Minister isn't supposed to interfere with an official tribunal – especially when his own position on the matter now appears somewhat … compromised."

"_Compromised?_" said Harry in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"Uh-oh. Were _you_ at that wedding too?" asked Ron.

It only took one look at Kingsley's face to know that Ron had hit the nail on the head. "Since you mention it, yes. I was Remus's best man, in fact. If Umbridge realises _that_ … well, let's say that she could use it to stir up quite a lot of trouble. And if that Skeeter woman gets to hear about it, she might just go and interview the vicar. _Damn!_" He slammed a fist down on his desk. "This sort of complication is the very last thing I needed right now. Are you _sure_ she's got this Miscellaneous Provisions Order thing right?"

Hermione nodded sadly. "It looks like it. What will happen if they know you were there?"

"That depends on the Wizengamot – or what's left of it. If I start throwing the Ministerial weight about too obviously too early, they might panic, and if they decide to get picky over my confirmation, I'm out of a job. We'll probably get the old order back."

"Old order?" asked Harry.

Kingsley's expression was ugly. "I've had people keeping an ear to the ground – an Extendable Ear in some cases. I'm hearing hints of a group who don't want the Ministry to make any 'precipitous changes', and would prefer to install a 'compromise candidate' who will 'restore stability to the government'. And yes, those _are_ direct quotes. All it means is that they want everything to go back to how it was before the Death Eaters took over, without making any effort to change the underlying attitudes. Teddy Lupin and his grandmother are probably just targets of opportunity for them, a way to cause consternation for the new Ministry. I don't know how strong the faction is or who they all are, but I'll bet you Galleons to Flobberworms that Umbridge is right there among them helping them out. After all, if we take over she's likely to be arrested for crimes against Muggle-borns once the dust settles."

"Who do they mean by a 'compromise candidate'?" asked Hermione suspiciously.

"Cornelius Fudge was the name being floated." He shook his head at their disbelieving protests. "No, think about it. He was out of office last year – out of the country, in fact – so he didn't get his hands dirty. He has experience, and the worst people will say about him is that he's incompetent. When compared to what came after him he suddenly looks a great deal better. Of course, he's always been far too impressed by the old pure-bloods, but that's what they _want_ – someone easy to manipulate. Not all of them were active Death Eaters, and there are still plenty of their sympathisers around. I need _time_, dammit."

"We don't _have_ time! Amos is going to rule on this _tomorrow_!" shouted Harry, his frustration finally bursting through. He was uncomfortably aware that Kingsley was probably right about the bigger picture, but he'd still hoped for a lot more than this from him. "Whatever happened to the idea of a Ministry based on justice? Or all that stuff you said at the funeral about how important it was that Remus and Tonks got married as a blow against prejudice? What are we supposed to do, let their son be stuffed into some German prison for kids who might, just possibly, if everything we know about werewolves these days is totally wrong, be dangerous? Hell, Grindelwald's dead now, why not lock Teddy up in his old cell in Nurmengard to really be on the safe side?" He took a deep breath; he was dimly aware that this time, Ron and Hermione had not attempted to interrupt his rant, nor felt embarrassed by it – although he had a nasty suspicion that he himself might later on. "You can't _do_ that, Kingsley!"

Kingsley looked as if he was controlling anger, but if so, he managed it better than Remus had done. "I have no desire to do that, Harry, I just don't have any _choice_! You saw the slant the _Prophet_ put on things this morning, if that's the line they're pushing, I _can't_ be seen to interfere …" He paused, looking extremely unhappy with what he'd just said, and sat and thought for a moment. "You can do things I don't have the chance to do any more," he said slowly. "That's why I really need _your_ help to keep Teddy safe. And while we're on that subject …"

He rose from his desk so suddenly that he was halfway to the door by the time Harry realised that he'd finished speaking. He opened it and called, "Proudfoot! Come in here, I have a job for you."

The man they had turfed out of the office strolled in. "What's that, Minister?"

Kingsley turned to them. "Hermione, didn't you tell me Umbridge said people had made threats against Teddy Lupin?" Following her surprised nod, he continued smoothly, "I thought so. If Amos rules against the grandmother, the Ministry would take charge of the child – and until we reconnect the fireplaces he could only be taken out of the building via the visitor's entrance. The street above is very vulnerable to attack by someone lying in wait." Harry exchanged startled glances with his friends; how much did Kingsley know of their escapade the previous year? His voice had risen and Harry was sure it must be carrying through the open door to anyone listening outside. "We can't tell what groups those spectators were with. It would be very embarrassing for the Ministry if an anti-werewolf faction were allowed to get away with defying the law. We must take steps to prevent that. Proudfoot, I'm ordering you to take personal charge of the security arrangements – I'm sure you've seen the details of the case in the _Prophet_. It'll do you good to get back into the old routine again." There was a suspicious lack of expression on his face as he examined Proudfoot. "Do you think you can handle it, Mike, or should I assign someone else to work with you?"

Proudfoot too was wearing an innocent look. "Oh, I'm sure I'm still capable of taking one baby out of the building all by myself, Minister, even if I am a bit rusty after a year off the broom, like."

"Good. Well, Harry, it's been nice talking to you all, but I have work to do. I'm sure you can find your own way out – and the same goes for this case." He had been gradually shepherding them to the door as he spoke, and Harry noticed that there were now several people waiting to see him. His voice had now become so bland it was practically soporific. "Try to persuade Amos Diggory to make the right decision, but let's hope everything works out for the best anyway. I'm sure it will." Harry could have sworn he saw Kingsley wink at them as they left.

Proudfoot walked with them as they passed the people waiting for Kingsley, a couple of whom looked both very senior and not at all comfortable with the new Minister. "Bit of a blow being given this case, you know," he said chattily as they stepped into the lift. "I worked with Dora Tonks looking after you lot. She was a great girl – by way of being a personal friend. I'm going to miss her."

Harry suddenly realised where he'd seen the man before. "You were in Hogsmeade, guarding the school! You're an Auror!"

"_Was_ an Auror. Will be again, if Shacklebolt gets the Department sorted out. I'm Muggle-born, so I had to leg it when they started asking for Blood Status. At the moment I'm just helping out." He paused as they reached the fifth floor. "I'll be down in the courtroom tomorrow to collect the child if need be. Although I'll have to stop off to do some paperwork first before I can leave the building with him, so I hope nobody sets a trap or anything while I'm doing it. Still, I suppose the worst anyone can do is Stun me, as long as I can't remember their faces, right?"

"Right," agreed Harry solemnly. As the lift doors closed, he, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other in speculation – not to mention trepidation. They had some serious planning to do.

-------------------------------------------------------

_(Author's Note: St Edmund is apparently the __patron saint of wolves__. This might or might not apply to werewolves, of course.)_


	4. The BestLaid Plans

Part 4: The Best-Laid Plans

The afternoon and evening proved extremely hectic for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, although Harry found time for a brief return to The Burrow to check how Andromeda was coping with the situation. Ginny was sitting with her when he arrived, and shot him a helpless look – she was clearly having very little success in reassuring the stricken grandmother, in whose presence Harry dared do no more than mutter vague platitudes about having the situation well in hand and there being no need to panic (while desperately hoping that the mission the other two were currently on would be successful).

The atmosphere when they all finally returned late that evening was calmer, but still strained. Andromeda was sitting on the sofa singing lullabies to Teddy, although Harry could still hear that fraught undercurrent that suggested she might crack up at any moment if she thought too much about what she was doing. Arthur and Molly were sitting with her and doing their best to keep her spirits up, while he found Ginny in the kitchen, rubbing soot off her face. She had the slightly dizzy look of someone who had just spent a long time making Floo calls.

"How is she?" Harry asked her, as Ron and Hermione joined the group in the living-room.

Ginny grimaced. "About as well as can be expected. In other words, pretty awful." She winced at the stiffness in her muscles and stretched luxuriantly, arms and head thrown back and chest thrown forward, and for a moment Harry totally forgot what he wanted to say. She caught sight of him staring and grinned. "You were being very mysterious when you Apparated back this afternoon," she said, tactfully ignoring his blush. "What exactly _are_ you planning? And when are you going to actually tell me?"

"Right now," he promised. "But let's go in the lounge – there's a lot to discuss, and it's best if we have everyone there."

Mrs Tonks, Ginny, and her parents listened with increasing unhappiness as the three friends explained what Kingsley and Proudfoot had said. "So Kingsley's stuck in a dragon's nest without a wand," finished Ron. "If he starts interfering to close the case down, they'll probably suss out it's because he was there at the wedding, and if they can get proof of _that_ they've got him over a cauldron."

"And if he _doesn't_ interfere, no doubt they'd portray him as weak in the papers," added Hermione. "_And_ use the issue to drive a wedge between him and the people from the Order he needs to be able to rely on."

"It's not going to work with me," said Arthur quietly. "Nor even Percy. I had a word with him today; he offered to write a memo to Amos personally." He sat back and sighed. "I actually have the greatest of sympathies for Kingsley. He has to consolidate his hold on the job before he can make sweeping changes, and that could take weeks or months. And he has to spend far too much time at the moment on diplomatic relations with foreign Ministries – not to mention the Muggle Prime Minister, of course. They all want reassurance that they won't have any _more_ British Dark wizards making trouble for them. He's making an official visit to Germany, Austria, and Switzerland tomorrow – I believe he intends to have a strong word with the German Minister about their Black Forest facility just in case, Andromeda – and he doesn't need this sort of distraction. We both expected _something_ would be thrown at him by his opponents, it's just the actual situation that's blindsided us --"

Andromeda Tonks broke down.

"I … I … I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_!" she forced out between sobs. "I … I never m-meant … I didn't want to cause all this t-trouble! I just want to be left alone with the only f-family I have left!" Molly mouthed helplessly over the sound of the tears to tell them she'd been crying off and on all day. "I … I'll leave! I'll go abroad … somewhere! A-anywhere! I could face Azkaban, but I c-can't face losing my g-g-grandson, not after all that's h-happened!"

"You won't have to," said Harry firmly. It was time to let her in on what they had in mind. "We have a plan ready in case Amos Diggory _doesn't_ decide against that cow Umbridge." Like too many of their recent plans, they'd had to concoct it on the spur of the moment and it was practically held together with Spellotape, but Andromeda Tonks didn't need to know that. He turned to Mr and Mrs Weasley. "It's a bit – well, actually rather a lot – illegal, though. I don't want to get you into trouble. It might be best if you didn't hear what we're about to say."

Molly and Arthur looked at each other uncertainly. "Harry, we want to help --" he began.

"But the Ministry needs you too," he interrupted. "You can't afford to do anything they could use against you, not at the moment, right? And Mrs Weasley, would you really feel comfortable knowing if Mr Weasley didn't?"

Molly looked at Harry as if she hadn't quite expected him to understand that. "No, Harry, I suppose I wouldn't," she said after a long pause. She turned to her husband. "Arthur?"

Harry had the impression that the two of them were carrying on an in-depth conversation by means of raised eyebrows alone. "Er, yes," he said eventually. "I have another coat of paint to put on the bike before we turn in --"

"And I really must finish icing that cake. Come along, Ginny, you can help me."

"No way. I'm staying," said Ginny immediately. Harry had expected this, and had to struggle not to smile. He thought she deserved to know what was going on. On the whole, she'd shown remarkable forbearance in not demanding to be told before.

"You're only _sixteen_, young lady …"

"And I've been fighting Death Eaters since I was fourteen." Ginny for once didn't sound particularly angry at being told to leave, nor even upset; she just seemed weary at the situation. "Does that _really_ matter now, Mum, after all this? I'll be of age in a few months anyway, but I'm sure Harry could do with a bit of extra help _now_."

Harry wasn't sure, but he didn't want to say so. "There shouldn't be any problem, Mrs Weasley," he said in as reassuring a tone as he could manage.

Molly Weasley did not seem in the least convinced by this, but Harry held her gaze for a minute, with a look in which he tried to combine steely resolve and a plea for understanding (no easy task), until Molly coughed in embarrassment. She exchanged further glances with her husband, who gave her a resigned shrug. "Well … I suppose … all right, then. Andromeda, I'll only be in the kitchen if you need me. Come and talk to me any time you like."

"And I'll be in the shed," added Arthur. "If you _really_ need my help, just come and ask for it. I owe it to Remus and Tonks; it could so easily have been me who was killed instead of them. Ginny …" He hesitated. "Be careful. Stay safe. You're _not_ of age yet, and we want you to be able to finish your N.E.W.T.s next year now you've got the chance. And I know I'm probably wasting my breath by saying this, but _you three_ be careful too."

"Don't worry, Dad, we will," promised Ron. "We've had practice, remember."

They waited until Molly and Arthur were safely out of earshot, then Ginny asked, without preamble, "OK. What _are_ you up to?"

Harry nodded to Hermione, who proceeded to explain in confident tones about the still-empty theatre near the visitors' entrance to the Ministry, and the way they'd used it to ambush Mafalda Hopkirk, Reg Cattermole, and Albert Runcorn. "Proudfoot will have to bring Teddy past it, and he won't put up much of a fight," she concluded. "We Stun him, take Teddy, and leave a sort of manifesto that suggests it was done by Umbridge's werewolf-hating friends. If she wants to use smear tactics, it's time she learnt that counter-smears can be just as effective as counter-jinxes. We then Apparate with Teddy directly to Heathrow --"

"Where?" asked Andromeda blankly.

"It's the biggest Muggle airport, very easy to hide yourself in the crowd. We hand him over to my parents --"

"Your _parents_?"

"My parents, Hugo and Jean Granger – or Wendell and Monica Wilkins, as they were known when they lived in Australia last year." Harry thought it a good tactic on Hermione's part not to give Mrs Tonks sufficient time to explore any of her objections. "They were horrified to hear the message Harry left when he phoned, and when Ron and I told them what happened today, they were only too willing to do anything they could to help. Anyway, once they take charge of Teddy they will board the next plane to Sydney and resume their already established Wilkins cover identity, claiming that Teddy is theirs and they wanted him to be born in England in case he grew up to be a Test cricketer." Harry suspected that he was the only other person in the room who understood that remark, and even he had to think about it now. "I'll put a Colour-Fixing Charm on his hair before they go, and I've already Transfigured some documentation for him – we've given him the alias 'David Wilkins'. For some reason, no-one in the wizarding world ever seems to be called David, so it'll sound more Muggle if anyone's on the lookout."

Harry grinned at her. The plan was once again largely Hermione's work, and this time he _had_ remembered to tell her how much he appreciated it. Andromeda Tonks did not look convinced, however. "But I don't _want_ to be parted from Teddy --"

"You won't be," said Harry. "Not for long, anyway. You quietly slip out of the country at the first opportunity, collect him from Hermione's mum and dad, and go and live anywhere you like under a new name. I know it's a wrench, leaving everyone behind --"

"I don't have anyone except him left!"

"Right …" She'd meant what she said before, he saw. "Not a problem, then."

"But it's against the law, and they'll know you did it …"

"Nah, we'll use one of the Death Eater wands from the Battle of Hogwarts," said Ron. "There are loads of them floating about – people took them as spoils or souvenirs. With any luck, it'll seem like one of _their_ sympathisers did it, and even if they don't believe that, they'll never be able to trace the spells to us. You play merry hell with the old guard in the Ministry for a few months for 'letting him be taken', and then say, I dunno, that you can't face living here any more with all your family gone and you're off to some distant relative abroad."

"You could do with some backup, though," said Ginny, and Harry looked at her apprehensively. "When you were all away so long I _thought_ you were probably planning something like this, so I got my head into the fire and started roping in the DA. Don't you think it would be best if you three and Andromeda were somewhere else while all this is going on?"

"I'm not going to ask anyone else to do it for me --" began Harry.

She shook her head impatiently. "You've still got some of that Polyjuice left, haven't you? I managed to get hold of Neville and Luna, and she knew how to get in touch with Dean. Give us some hair; when that Auror goes off with Teddy to kill time for a bit and let you get into position, we'll all use the potion and make sure we're seen – or rather, you're seen – in the Ministry. It can't possibly take you more than an hour, surely?"

Harry hesitated. He still couldn't pretend he was entirely comfortable with the idea of Ginny putting herself in danger – although he did seem to be getting more used to it – but he retained just enough common sense not to argue. He hastily focused on the other aspect that made him uneasy. "Why _Dean_, anyway?" he asked suspiciously.

Ginny's smile in response was almost a smirk, and Harry knew he'd judged this one right, at least. "I was sure he'd want to be the one to help," she told him. "He always liked Lupin, and he spent a few months with Tonks's dad, remember … er, I mean, your husband as well, Mrs Tonks, obviously, um …" She looked across at her. "He told me how much he liked him too," she added awkwardly. "If you wanted to talk to him …"

Andromeda Tonks shook her head slowly. Indeed, she seemed almost stunned by the turn of events, but breaking down in tears seemed to have done her some good. "Maybe later," she said, sounding tired but much more in control. "Not now, Ginny. It wouldn't … it would hurt too much." She shuddered. "It's a good plan. It'll be an upheaval, but it's better than losing my grandson. I suppose I'll have to look into selling our house – I won't be able to stay there anyway, and I'll need the money to pay for all of this. I only hope there'll be enough left to live on afterwards …"

Harry had been expecting that kind of reaction. Fortunately, he had practice at dealing with it. "You won't need to worry about that, Mrs Tonks. The gold's coming out of _my_ vault."

"Excuse me?" Andromeda Tonks sounded almost insulted at the idea of being a charity case. "Don't be ridiculous, Mr Potter, I couldn't possibly take your money --"

He already had his arguments rehearsed, and cut in. "Teddy's my godson. I owe him this. What sort of godfather would I be if I didn't help?" Ron and Hermione exchanged rueful glances. "And anyway," he added before anyone could interrupt, "it won't really be my money – it'll be _Sirius's_ money. _Black_ money. He left me everything, and you _know_ from what you told me about him that he'd have been proud to see it used for this. Tonks was his cousin, and Teddy's her child, _and_ the son of one of his oldest and closest friends. He'd probably have told you to hex me if I _didn't_ help."

Andromeda stared at him for a minute or two without speaking. She seemed to have run dry of tears for the moment. "You know, I didn't trust my son-in-law for quite a long time," she said eventually, her voice soft and reflective. "All I knew of him when they married were the reports in the papers that he had put children in danger by transforming at Hogwarts, and I told Nymphadora to ask _them_ if they thought he was worth caring about." Harry, Ron, and Hermione carefully avoided looking at each other. "I couldn't see how a man who had known little else but poverty and monthly urges to kill for most of his life could possibly be a suitable husband for her. I would have put a stop to it if I could – yes, even though my parents had wanted to prevent my _own_ marriage, the way old pure-blood families always did. It took me a long time to get to know Remus Lupin better, and now I bitterly regret that I didn't have longer. And it seems that he was a man who made not one, but _two_ groups of friends in his life who were willing to risk their education and their prospects and even their freedom to help. Such a man must have been something special. I'm _glad_ my daughter saw that long before I did! I should have shown greater trust in her judgement from the start."

Harry felt a lump in his throat. Ron's voice was oddly thick when he answered her. "Yeah, he was a top bloke. One of the best."

"So was your Dora," added Hermione softly. Her eyes had also begun to glisten with tears "I know she loved him more than anything. And I know _he_ was terrified by the thought he was going to be bad for her too. Don't torment yourself over that, Mrs Tonks. You weren't the only one who needed time to learn to trust your daughter's judgement of him."

Harry nodded in confirmation, although exactly _why_ Hermione knew what Remus had thought was something else Andromeda didn't need to know. "Are we agreed then, Mrs Tonks?"

"_Andromeda_, please, Mr … er, Harry. Thank you. Although I don't know how I ever _can_."

"Just bring up Teddy to know who his parents were and what they were really like," said Harry awkwardly. "Even if, well – he can't actually tell people about it. And if he decides to come back to Britain when he's older, you know he'll always be welcome to spend as much time at my place as he wants."

"And don't think we won't be working on it," added Ron in an encouraging tone. "I don't care if the International Confederation haven't changed their rules on werewolves since … whenever it was they started it –" Hermione smiled, obviously recalling their feeble efforts in History of Magic "– because once Kingsley Shacklebolt is confirmed as Minister, we'll give him a kick up the ar -- the bum to get it sorted out and let you come back if you want."

"I think he'll try whether we give him a kick up the bum or not." Hermione suddenly sat up and looked at her watch. "We're going to have to be up early in the morning to get everything in place," she said briskly. "Andromeda, please think over everything we've told you and see if you can spot any problems. Ron, Harry, Ginny, time we all got some sleep, I think! Let's go."

Nobody dared to argue, although Ginny hung back with Harry as they all filed from the room. She'd been quiet for a while, and her smile for him was rather perfunctory, although her goodnight kiss wasn't – even if she did seem to be exaggerating it in order to see Ron's reaction. Harry wasn't quite sure what that would be (although he was willing to risk it), but Ron merely looked at her defiantly and then gave Hermione a kiss that was every bit as prolonged. Harry turned away hastily.

"Will you tell Neville and Luna – er, and Dean – what's going on?" he asked Ginny.

"Course I will. Leave me a few of those Ministry tokens. Although …" She hesitated for a moment, to Harry's surprise. "I need to go up to Hogwarts too. Something Dad said … I have to discuss it with the teachers. I'll tell them to meet me there."

"Anything to do with your N.E.W.T.s?" called Hermione from the door. She sounded rather out of breath.

"Er, yeah, actually …"

"I wish I was taking them," she said wistfully. "We'd have started sitting them round about now, wouldn't we?"

Ron caught Harry's gaze over her head and rolled his eyes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

By half past eleven the following morning, Harry was beginning to feel nervous. Possibly Hermione's attitude was transmitting itself; she was preparing for the resumption of the hearing as if she really were taking a N.E.W.T. exam. Fond of her as he was, her habit of keyed-up behaviour on such occasions made them more stressful than they needed to be. It didn't help that spectators had turned up again, including of course Rita Skeeter; she made a tentative approach to ask for an interview, but Ron's offer to snap her Quick-Quotes Quill and use it for an alternative purpose if she spoke so much as one more word to them was sufficiently forceful to leave even Rita discouraged.

Then again, the nerves might simply be due to the fact that there was still no sign of Ginny, nor the people from the DA she was supposed to be bringing with her. This was extremely annoying, as he wanted to talk through the plan with them in advance. He, Ron, Hermione and Andromeda each had two vials of Polyjuice concealed in their robes – one which would allow a DA volunteer to change into them, and one which would allow them to take on the appearance of random Muggles for purposes of disguise.

He checked his watch again and saw that it was now quarter to twelve, which only increased his level of tension. On the whole, he would be happiest by far if Amos Diggory saw sense and found some way to make the plan unnecessary, although he didn't hold out much hope for that – and more to the point, neither did Hermione after poring over the legal rulings one last time. For someone who had sneered at the idea of studying Magical Law when Scrimgeour had made the suggestion, she seemed to have taken to it like a Snitch to the wing.

He caught her eye; she was pale with nervous anticipation, and he attempted a hearty smile to project confidence he was far from actually feeling. Ron was also jumpy, and Andromeda looked as if she was having trouble breathing. Umbridge arrived at about ten to twelve, smirking at them in her most irritating manner, and Harry pointedly turned his back on her.

He had almost given up on Ginny when at about five to twelve, there was the sound of footsteps; she raced up to them and dropped a stack of parchment into the arms of a baffled Hermione.

"What's this?"

"I got it from Hogwarts. You've just about got time to read it now, before we go in. McGonagall sends her regards. Sorry I'm late everyone, it took longer than I thought at school …"

Harry looked at Ron, who seemed just as puzzled as he was. "Did you see anyone else on your way in?" he asked. He didn't dare say any more with Umbridge listening.

She nodded. "A few friends. They might be along later. There's a witness coming too, if Amos allows it." She looked back down the corridor. "Er, eventually, anyway …"

Before he had time to ask any more questions, the door opened and Boot, the scribe, called them in. Hermione was still rapidly scanning the parchment she had been given. Ginny hung back, waiting for her witness, and Harry saw her face light up; he couldn't see who it was. but didn't have time to wait and find out as he took his seat near the front.

Amos Diggory called the tribunal to order and read out the list of people present. "I'd just like to say for the record that this is one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make," he began. He went into a waffly speech about the duties and responsibilities of the department towards the laws of the Ministry and the International Confederation, and Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair; it seemed likely to go on for some time. Even Umbridge seemed glassy-eyed, so was at least getting a taste of her own medicine.

Eventually Diggory wound down and paused for a moment, and Harry ceased to watch for the door opening and brought his attention back to the tribunal. "However, I should announce a decision now," he said, and everyone nodded involuntarily. He gave a deep sigh. "It pains me to say this, but I haven't been able to find any 'service to the Ministry' exception to the law that would allow me to rule in favour of Mrs Tonks and allow her to keep the child, although I intend to recommend that any subsequent hearing be extremely lenient as regards sentencing for attending the illegal marriage – it's a thoroughly obscure law, and I think a small fine would be more than adequate as punishment."

Umbridge looked like the Kneazle who'd got the cream, even if her smirk flickered very slightly at Diggory's last comment. Harry, his heart sinking, exchanged resigned but determined glances with Ron, wondering where the hell the DA members were and hoping Ginny had briefed them well.

He turned to see what Hermione thought of it and was surprised to find her getting to her feet. "Excuse me, Mr Diggory."

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he said testily. "I don't particularly want to hear any more impassioned pleas."

"Not at all," she replied with equanimity. "But as I recall, you said yesterday that we could make any further relevant arguments that occurred to us when we reconvened. And I do believe that I have the right under Wizengamot procedural rules to present significant new evidence that may affect the decision before the ruling is made?"

Diggory looked annoyed, but also resigned. "Very well, Miss Granger. Go ahead. I hope this really _is_ significant."

"Oh, I think so. It will probably be simpler if I call an expert witness. Madam Pince, would you step forward please?"

Ginny was beaming, and Harry could only suppose that this was the witness she had brought with her. He craned his head to watch her as she walked to the front of the room, and was relieved to see that Neville, Luna and Dean had now slipped into the back row of seats – if whatever this was about didn't work, they were going to need them. Unfortunately, Dawlish had also arrived, and taken a place next to a disgruntled-looking Proudfoot. Harry had a nasty suspicion that Umbridge had taken advantage of Kingsley being out of the country to arrange extra 'protection' for Teddy. He definitely hadn't bargained on having someone there who might fight back.

Madam Pince was carrying an armful of parchment of her own. She sat down in the chair on the raised platform, and Hermione addressed her. "Could you state your name and occupation for the record, please?"

Her nose jutted forward again as she spoke. "Irma Eleanor Pince. I have been the librarian of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the past forty-seven years."

"Very good. I understand you have brought copies of certain documents with you; what status do these have?"

"Hogwarts is a library of record for wizarding law texts. These are official copies. I duplicate-charmed them myself, as is my task as librarian."

"Just so. May I ask you to quote from the –" Hermione glanced surreptitiously at Ginny's notes "– the provisions of the International Statute of Secrecy of 1692 regarding relations with Muggle governments?"

"Certainly." Madam Pince cast one look of loathing at Umbridge, adjusted her glasses, and began to read.

"'_Notwithstanding the Provisions laid down elsewhere in this Statute for the due and necessary Separation of the Wizarding and the Muggle Worlds, this Confederation observes that it is vital to preserve a form of Relations between the several Authorities in each World, such that Matters of mutual Importance may be dealt with in an expeditious Manner. The Confederation hence decrees that each Ministry shall take such Steps as shall be necessary to maintain cordial Relations with the Kings, Grand Dukes, Margraves, or other such Forms of Ultimate Authority as the Muggle World may from Time to Time prefer, in the Region in which both are located. And such Muggle Authorities shall in every Case be recognised as being a sovereign Power, to make such Laws and take such Actions as they wish within their own Dominions, in full Equivalence of Status with the Wizarding Authorities of the same Lands, and without attempt by said Wizarding Authorities to prevent the same …'"_

She looked up. "There is more, of course, but as I understand the nature of this case these are the clauses most relevant to the matter at hand."

"Thank you, Madam Pince," said Hermione politely. "I think this establishes the point that a Muggle government, such as that of the United Kingdom under whose laws the marriage of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks was solemnised, is fully recognised as a legitimate authority able to decide who it will or will not grant marriage rights to."

Harry felt vaguely deflated. Certainly it was a new approach, but in all honesty he wouldn't have wanted to stake more than a handful of Knuts on the chances of it changing Amos Diggory's mind. The man seemed mildly puzzled, but when Harry chanced a look to see how Umbridge was taking it, his heart sank further. Her expression was stony, but she didn't seem noticeably disconcerted.

"Well, that's certainly an interesting point, Miss Granger," said Diggory. "Are you arguing that --"

"Hem, _hem_."

"_Yes_, Madam Umbridge?"

Umbridge stood up, although it was as unimpressive a gesture as ever; Harry thought that maybe she should have brought a stepladder with her. "I have never disputed that the Muggles have the right to allow werewolves and other undesirables to marry, if they are foolish enough to wish to do so," she said sweetly, turning to Pince. "But I seem to remember, dear, that the part of the Statute of Secrecy you _didn't_ read out to us makes it extremely clear that their laws shall not be considered binding on wizards unless specifically so authorised by the Confederation or the local Ministry. As a former Senior Undersecretary to the Minister I kept a record of all Statutes and Ministry Decrees, and I can assure you that there has _never_ been one issued to allow werewolves to marry as Muggles." Diggory nodded. "So I am afraid, Miss Granger, that I fail to see that this reminder of the Statute changes the legal situation in any way."

Harry turned in disappointment to the back of the courtroom, where Neville caught his eye. Harry raised his eyebrows in enquiry and received a tiny nod in reply, while Luna smiled beatifically and Dean maintained a suspiciously detached expression. He estimated that they would have a window of no more than ten minutes after Proudfoot left with Teddy in which to take the Polyjuice, change clothes, and then get into position. They were going to need every minute of them, especially as he wanted to explain to the members of the DA that their best tactic for being widely recognised as 'Harry' and his party would be to storm up to the Ministerial offices again and demand to see Kingsley Shacklebolt.

He turned back to listen to what Hermione was saying, and blinked as he realised that for perhaps the first time in her life she was fully in agreement with Umbridge.

"… absolutely correct," she was saying. "I wouldn't dream of arguing that, Madam Umbridge."

"Well then, dear, why are you wasting our --"

"_Hem, hem_." Hermione seemed very pleased with herself for some reason. "There _is_ one final point I would like to bring before this tribunal. Madam Pince, would you please describe the other document you have brought with you, and read the relevant clauses into the record?"

"Gladly." Harry could have sworn he heard a note of relish in Pince's voice. "This is the International Confederation of Wizards Marriage Recognition Statute of 1877. I believe it was introduced to settle questions that had arisen when the pure-blood son of a leading official in the French Ministry eloped to Spain in order to marry a half-blood he had met at Beauxbatons, instead of the girl his parents had chosen for him." She sniffed, as if to indicate disdain for such follies of youth. "His parents attempted to have the marriage declared null and void as he was under age in France, although not in Spain which allowed marriage at fifteen. After debating the matter, the Confederation decided that this would cause chaos and ruled as follows." She cleared her throat.

"'_For the avoidance of doubt, it is decreed that any marriage solemnised according to the laws of any government recognised as a sovereign power by this Confederation, on its own territory, shall be deemed to be valid in all wizarding jurisdictions, and must be recognised as legitimate and binding by them, even if it would otherwise be contrary to the laws or policy of the government whose citizens contracted the marriage._'"

"Thank you, Madam Pince. So you see, Madam Umbridge, that while you are correct to state that no Statute or Decree _specifically_ allows Muggle marriages for a werewolf, when these two are taken _together_ they can have only one interpretation – that if a recognised Muggle government allows a werewolf to marry, since 1877 that marriage has perforce also been a valid one under wizarding law." Hermione smiled at a thunderstruck Umbridge. "I'm sure you don't need me to point out to you that since the Ministry is required to recognise the marriage as valid, the penalties mentioned in clause XVIII of the International Werewolf Agreement of 1741 that you so kindly quoted yesterday do not become operative." She turned to Amos Diggory. "And of course, since both of these laws are ICW Statutes – and moreover, the later one considerably post-dates the 1809 order that Madam Umbridge has relied upon to make her case – they clearly trump any Ministry Decrees there may or may not be on the subject." She paused to allow this to sink in. "In fact," she finished sweetly, "to use the phrase that seems to be in vogue, they are to us as a law of the Medes and Persians, which cannot be changed."

Ginny's expression was triumphant. Mrs Tonks had half-risen from her seat, Neville, Luna, and Dean were chattering in excitement, and there was an increasing buzz of conversation from the other spectators at the back of the room. Amos Diggory looked nearly as astonished as Umbridge; the scribe Boot had brought him the documents for perusal, and he was comparing them side by side and nodding in agreement.

Umbridge began to splutter. It was a beautiful sound, and for once – at last! – she didn't seem to have a comeback prepared. "But Amos, you cannot allow this!" she said in desperation. "I'm sure none of us would want you to make a ruling based on some obviously contrived interpretation of the law. We all _know_ that werewolves are dangerous beasts, after all!" That line of argument might have caught Diggory's attention, but then she made a mistake. "It is _vital_ that the influence of this foolish so-called 'Order of the Phoenix' not be allowed to send completely the wrong signals! Of course we are all very grateful to them for fighting against You-Know-Who, even if they did not see fit to seek help from the recognised authorities, but allowing them to get away with this will undo all the progress we have made over the last year and undermine the efforts of those of us who are working together to ensure continuity and stability in the Ministry!"

"_Progress_, Dolores?" Amos Diggory's tone was icy, and Harry listened in glee. She had clearly forgotten that while Diggory might be sympathetic to her on werewolf questions, Death Eaters were an entirely different matter. Harry wasn't even sure it had occurred to her to revise her opinion of the official line that Cedric had died as the result of an accident. "_Continuity_? You think the nightmare we've endured at the hands of You-Know-Who's creatures this last year is something to be _preserved_?" The tribunal papers had been summarily pushed aside, and he looked down at Umbridge as if regretting that he had never before recognised her for what she really was. "I'm told there's a faction around who want to see things stay the same, but I don't see why you're assisting it. Not hard to tell who's right and wrong on this, is it?"

Harry sneaked a glance at Rita Skeeter; she was sitting bolt upright and listening avidly, and her Quick-Quotes Quill was flying across the parchment so fast it was almost a blur.

"But … Amos …" Umbridge seemed to be struggling to accept what had happened. "I merely wanted to point out that respect for the rules of the Ministry is of vital importance --"

"Yes, it is," he said triumphantly. "And the defence seem to have discovered what they actually are, so we'll follow them. Here's my decision: the marriage was valid, therefore Madam Tonks was entitled to attend it, and she can keep the damned baby if she wants!" He turned to the party surrounding Andromeda. "I'm relying on you people to make sure there's no risk to anyone on full moon nights. I want at least six months to go by to make sure it's safe before you let the baby out in public. Ron, Ginny, I'll expect your parents to help." He held up a hand to forestall another attempt to speak from Umbridge. "Boot, this tribunal is now closed. Write up the record and bring it to me to be signed." Diggory started to gather up the papers, then thought better of it and added, "You can get these in order too. I'll be in my office when you've finished." He disappeared through the door he'd entered by as fast as he could and slammed it shut behind him.

The room erupted.

Harry's party were immediately enfolded in a group hug as if they'd just won a Quidditch final. Andromeda Tonks was taking great gulps of air in an effort to steady herself, and Teddy Lupin seemed to have caught the mood; his hair was going through quite a repertoire of colour changes. Ron and Hermione were kissing in a manner that made Harry expect to see basilisk fangs falling at any moment, and Neville, Luna, and Dean were racing forward to congratulate them all. Proudfoot caught Harry's eye, winked, made a rude gesture in Dawlish's direction and strolled out whistling. Dawlish scowled and left quickly, while Pince nodded to Ginny and followed them through the door, as if this had been an entirely routine task that she performed every day of the week. Best of all, a purple-faced Umbridge was unsuccessfully trying to evade Rita Skeeter – who had wisely chosen not to approach Harry and his friends on this occasion, instead pestering the loser in the case for an interview on the subject of whether or not she was involved in a plot against the new Minister.

But the person Harry most wanted to congratulate was Ginny. "You did it, you _did_ it!" he cried, as they hugged each other and danced around like Cornish pixies on the rampage.

"_Brilliant_, Ginny!" yelled Ron, breaking apart from Hermione for a moment, and Ginny's eyes shone with pleasure.

"Thank you, Ginny," added Andromeda Tonks faintly. "_Thank you_. You saved my grandchild!"

"I didn't do much," she said, for once blushing every bit as fiercely as she had when she was eleven.

"Yes, you did," contradicted Hermione with a touch of chagrin. "You found something I never even thought of."

"_Where_ did you find that?" asked Harry. He thought that the bottles of Polyjuice in his pockets might have broken in the crush, but he couldn't care less now that he didn't have to worry about finding a time and place to use them. "Genius!"

"A couple of things people said last night gave me the idea!" she answered, as their gyrations came to a halt. "When Dad mentioned that Kingsley had to reassure the Muggle Prime Minister, it reminded me of what I told you that Carrow woman was banging on about last year – you know, how disgusting it was for the Confederation to let Muggle governments be treated as equals? Then Mrs Tonks said something about wanting to put a stop to the wedding if she'd been able to, and I remembered that marriage Statute – it was one of the things on last year's History of Magic O.W.L. we all complained about, Binns never covered it so no-one knew how to answer the question. I felt _sure_ that if I looked them up and put them both together, there had to be a real chance they'd give us something to use."

"You didn't let me know what you were planning when you went up to Hogwarts!"

Ginny's smirk was decidedly pointed, and even Harry had to grin as he recognised the irony. Then again, if this was the sort of thing she came up with … She took a deep breath. "I didn't dare say anything to get your hopes up until I'd had the chance to check. McGonagall gave us permission, and Madam Pince was a star, she knew _exactly_ where to find everything. _Told_ you she liked me!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"… _The soon-to-be-confirmed Minister, just like the now-discredited former Head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission, refused to comment on the matter – contenting himself with releasing a statement from Geneva saying that he was pleased that the child of two personal friends, who sacrificed their lives to give us all the chance of a better future, would now be raised in a safe family environment. However, a source close to the seats of power in the new Ministry was of the opinion that it is likely Shacklebolt will be able to use the plot uncovered by your reporter as an example of the dangers of allowing prejudiced elements of the old regime to disrespect not only war heroes and Muggles, but even the ICW Statutes themselves …_"

"Changed her tune, then," said Harry cheerfully, as Hermione paused for breath.

"That's Rita for you," she said disdainfully. "Ever the opportunist. 'Uncovered by your reporter' indeed! All she had to do was take notes at the tribunal! And of course the _Prophet_ has turned on a Sickle overnight again."

"Won't be the last time," Ron pointed out. "Anyway, everyone will have forgotten what the original line was soon if they keep this one up for a bit. Who's the 'source close to the seats of power', anyway?"

"Dad thinks it might be Kingsley himself, leaking snippets via his secretary," said Ginny, wriggling a bit to curl up more closely against Harry on the settee. "Skeeter would lap that sort of thing up, wouldn't she? He's pretty grateful to us for giving him the chance, anyway."

"That's true," said Harry. He glanced again at the note of thanks carried from Vienna by a rather tired Ministerial owl; it offered effusive praise for their efforts and again hinted strongly that they (and indeed Ginny if she was interested) might consider using the talents they'd displayed by joining his new Ministry to help him make it a success. Harry suspected that Kingsley had seized the opportunity offered by the Teddy Lupin problem to give them a nudge in that direction, but he couldn't feel annoyed with him – especially as the note also confirmed that all points of disagreement with the goblins on the subject of the Gringotts break-in had now been contractually resolved with surprising ease. He also reported that his colleague had overheard a few snide comments about Umbridge's case; in that light, Harry couldn't help but wonder if the 'private joke' the junior goblins had shared had been because they'd stumbled across the marriage statute and were amused that the wizards didn't know it. He rather wished that thought had occurred to him _before_ the tribunal when it might have saved them a lot of hassle.

"Going to take him up on his offer?" Ginny was watching him closely.

He gave her an awkward smile. Just as had happened with the DA, even though he hadn't initially agreed to anything, over the passage of time he had found himself considering the possibilities and planning what he might do if he actually said _yes_ to the suggestion. Then again, just as before, he wasn't at all sure he was up to it … "I feel a bit of a fraud about that, to be honest. I mean, I didn't actually _do_ much in all this, it was mostly you and …" He broke off as his friends fell about laughing. "What's so funny?"

"You, mate," said Ron. "We _knew_ you were going to say something like that."

"You did?" he asked, trying not to sound peevish.

"Yeah. Come to think of it, that's five Sickles Neville owes me."

"Haven't you got it yet, Harry?" said Hermione, shaking her head. "You don't _have_ to do everything by yourself."

Harry glanced down at Ginny, who was clearly waiting to see what he was going to say. "Oh – yeah, right. I don't, do I?" She winked at him, and he took a deep breath. "What about you, Ron? Are you signing up as an Auror?"

Ron hesitated. "I'd like to … but maybe not yet? I think George needs a bit of help. It can't be good for him trying to fix the shop all by himself, and, well … it's going to be even harder for him to get used to Fred not being there than for the rest of us." He gulped and looked at Hermione, as if seeking approval. "Do you reckon that's a good idea? Or should I go with Harry?"

"I think it's a _great_ idea," she said warmly, and Ron grinned in relief. "He _needs_ you, Ron. And it'll keep the apostrophe in the right place!"

"Er … yeah." Ron blinked. "What about you?"

Hermione didn't seem able to quite meet his eye. "I don't know … I'd considered going into the Magical Creatures department to push for better treatment of non-humans, but after this I think Magical Law really needs work too. Despite what I said to Scrimgeour," she added with a wry smile.

Harry grinned. "You could do both. Start out in Magical Creatures – I'm sure it wouldn't take you long to sort them out – then switch."

"Yeah, and we'd all be near each other then, wouldn't we?" said Ron. He studied Hermione's anxious appearance, and a crestfallen expression slowly made its way across his face. "Oh. You want to finish at Hogwarts, don't you? Be Head Girl and take your N.E.W.T.s?"

"I _would_ like to," she said guiltily. "I didn't realise how much I was going to miss it till we went back there. But I don't want to mess things up for us by being apart –" she turned slightly pink "– especially not now. And if I don't start with the Ministry straight away, there might not be a job afterwards …"

"Right." Ron seemed to be making a determined effort to keep his ears from turning their usual cerise. It wasn't working. "Do it," he said abruptly. "I'll be fine, and I'm going to be busy anyway, and it's not like we haven't got the rest – um, you know. You _deserve_ to do it if you really want to." He managed a smile. "Course, you must be mental wanting to do more exams, but we all knew that anyway, right?"

Ginny nodded, beaming. "Yeah, it'll be really cool with you and me in the same year!" She caught sight of Harry's quizzical expression. "Mum and Dad are right. I really should finish my education now I've got the chance. I can worry about the Ministry or getting a trial with the Harpies later."

"But if I go back instead of joining the Ministry now, while everything's in flux …"

"Kingsley seems to think you can all write your own job descriptions," pointed out Ginny. "He'd be bound to hold a place open for you if you wanted him to."

"Right …" Hermione suddenly turned to Ron. "Do you really think I'd be Head Girl?"

He snorted. "No, McGonagall would pick some other brilliant witch with a passion for school rules who spent a year fighting Voldemort. Of _course_ it'd be you. Why?"

"Well … the school rules say that the Head Boy and Girl have the privilege of visiting Hogsmeade at any time on Hogwarts business, not just at weekends." She paused to let that sink in and then gave him an impish grin. "Fred and George were thinking of buying Zonko's at one time, weren't they? If George opened it up as a second branch, he'd need someone on the spot to run it …"

Ron looked as if he approved wholeheartedly of this business plan, and Harry and Ginny snickered. "Go for it, both of you," he said. "You could do with some time off after following me around all year. As for the Ministry, put Kingsley to the test. You can tell him what you want from him as soon as he gets back."

Ginny sat up and looked at him, and in her eyes was the blazing look he was coming to rather like. "And what about _you_, Harry? I notice you haven't said what _you_ want yet."

"Well …" He paused for a moment, but found that after having been reminded of what the old order was like by seeing Umbridge in action at close quarters again, it wasn't exactly a hard decision to make. "I suppose … and I'm not sure it'll work … I might as well give it a go? I don't know what Kingsley expects me to do, but the Auror Office certainly needs fixing so he can chuck out idiots like Dawlish --"

The other three cheered. "Brilliant!" yelled Ron. He jumped up and went over to the sideboard, poured four generous measures from a bottle of Arthur's best Firewhisky, and directed the glasses towards the others with airy flicks of his wand. Ginny caught hers eagerly, Hermione with a slight smile, and Harry raised his eyebrows at his friend.

"What are we drinking to this time, then?"

"To us!" said Ron. "And to, I dunno … changing the world!"

That sounded encouraging. They all raised their glasses in salute. "_Changing the world!_"

As the Firewhisky burnt a trail down Harry's throat, he suddenly realised that he felt _sure_ their decisions were the right ones. It was a good feeling to know they would at least be doing their best to change the kind of attitudes that had put Teddy Lupin's future at risk.

All was not yet well with their world. But they were working on it.

------------------------------------------------------------

**Notes:**

Originally conceived pre-DH as a much shorter fic in which Umbridge would attempt to prevent Remus and Tonks bringing up their child, by backwards derivation from the final twist (if such it was). Naturally, the early part of DH with the quick marriage and pregnancy fit beautifully, it was the bit where that callous murderess Rowling bumped them off at the end that put a spoke in the wheel. :(

That twist was inspired by a Perry Mason novel called _The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom_, in which Perry's client has obtained a questionable Mexican divorce and remarriage, and Perry confounds attempts to charge his client with bigamy by pointing out that a Californian law along the lines of the 'Marriage Recognition Statute of 1877' meant that he had two perfectly legitimate wives. (Not a huge spoiler for that book, as it's really an aside to the main plot.) Then again, just as I was finishing off the beta changes a similar sort of issue relating to the interstate status of same-sex marriages hit the headlines, so evidently this sort of thing has more real-life import than I thought.

I picked the title because it seemed appropriate to a law that couldn't be changed -- it only later dawned on me that the theme of using one such law as an end run to circumvent another one was rather reminiscent of the book of Esther, which (along with the book of Daniel) is where the concept of the title came from. Oops. No blasphemy intended!

The previously-mentioned _In The Bleak Midwinter_ is actually derived from this fic rather than vice-versa -- I had the first section drafted with Hermione and Ron out of the way in Australia long before I wrote the other fic, and used the scenario to build upon.

Minor points: Kingsley's reference to the Muggle Prime Minister's 'inside the tent' comment recalls a notable occasion in which an a href=".org/wiki/John_Major"exasperated John Major quoted Lyndon Johnson/a, apparently without realising the microphones were switched on. And David isn't a name used in the wizarding world because that's the name JKR gave her son. :)

Very many thanks to **ladybug** and lj user="under_crisis" for betaing in general, and especially to **ladybug** for getting me to prune away some H/G clichés that I hadn't managed to avoid despite trying!


End file.
